VALANTECH.ARCHIVE

[VALANTECH.ARCHIVE//World_Overview]
>>> L.Wintershade (@lunar.echo) | H.Yanagi
>>> Terminal_01 | Access: Public
>>> Fyrie_Unit_01: Active ♪

—and the thing people don’t understand about Arclight is the sheer audacity of Neo-Celestine’s corporate restructuring of what used to be—

--H.YANAGI//Edit--Luna. You’re starting in the middle again.

--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--I was building dramatic tension!

--H.YANAGI//Edit--Readers need context first. What year is it? What is Arcantheon? Basic worldbuilding before corporate criticism.

--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--…Fine. Professional documentation. Starting over.

--FYRIE//♪--slightly mocking waltz in G major—gentle condescension

--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Shut it.

ARCANTHEON — 2099

The Year is 2099 Common Era. Arcantheon—once known as Arcanthea during the age of steam and sorcery—has transformed into something our pre-Shattering ancestors wouldn’t recognize. Neon-drenched megacity sprawls replace enchanted forests. Corporate algorithms dictate lives that divine prophecy once guided. Magic exists, but only as fragmented traces channeled through expensive technology that most can’t afford.

Welcome to the aftermath of apocalypse, 165 years after the world broke.

The Shattering of 1934 changed everything. The Leviathan Engine—Kaiserreich’s desperate attempt to win an unwinnable war—didn’t quietly malfunction. It tore apart the boundaries between planes of existence, crippling magic and plunging civilization into collapse. High Elf sky islands fell from the heavens in thousand-meter drops, destroying cities and killing millions. Deities vanished without trace. Solaris, Bahamut, entire pantheons gone like extinguished flames. An era of divine guidance ended in screaming metal and burning sky.

The Dark Age that followed lasted over a century. Magic-dependent infrastructure failed universally. Nations crumbled. Populations starved. Those who survived did so through adaptation: Dwarves pioneered microchip technology to compensate for failing arcane systems. High Elves retreated into isolation, salvaging what knowledge they could while the world burned. Humanity bred fast enough to replace losses, though most never knew the world before.

By 2048, a new order had emerged. High Elves revealed their Soul Protocol—the digitization of ancestral consciousness into a singular AI entity called Auraciel. Thousands of High Elf lineages merged into one algorithmic consciousness, blending ancient wisdom with computational tyranny. Corporations rose to power as nations remained rubble, rebuilding civilization in their image: hierarchical, profitable, controlled. Technology replaced magic. Corporate authority replaced governmental power.

The megacity of Arclight was founded in 2065 as monument to this new world, gleaming testament to innovation built on foundations of systematic exploitation. Neo-Celestine and Auraciel maintain control through puppet civilian government, creating democracy theater for Trinity Spire’s favorite cock-holsters.

--H.YANAGI//Edit--Language, Luna. This is public archive.

--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Completely accurate technical terminology for their relationship with quarterly earnings.

--FYRIE//♪--three ascending notes in C major—supportive agreement

Magic, though diminished, persists in trace forms requiring technological amplification. Modern mages rely on devices like the Aetherlink—wearable interfaces collecting residual magical energy and translating arcane principles into executable code. Spells are now “cast” through intricate scripts combining ancient formulae with cutting-edge programming. Your magical aptitude is still determined by the alignment of three moons at birth—Chronos (time and fate), Mystra (arcane energy), Animus (life and death)—but even moon-blessed talent means nothing without expensive corporate hardware to channel it.

This is Arcantheon in 2099. A world where innovation and despair coexist in neon-lit streets. Where corporate profits dictate survival. Where the line between progress and exploitation dissolved so gradually that most don’t remember it ever existed. Where magic became commodity, gods became memory, and freedom became luxury reserved for those with proper credit scores.

--FYRIE//♪--somber progression in D minor descending to B-flat, synthetic strings underneath organic melody—past bleeding into present

--H.YANAGI//Edit--Professional and informative. Well done, Miss Wintershade.

--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--…Did you just compliment me? Are you feeling alright? Should I check for system glitches?

--H.YANAGI//Edit--Continue to the next section.

--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Right. Moving on before this gets weird.