--Origins--
A great deal of years have passed since a young God called Rift created the world. Rift was a particularly naïve child, distrustful of his home—a place that we could not even begin to imagine—to create a place of his own.
Once he had completed creating the world, Rift had to pay a price to whomst he stole from; the grandiose usage of Space that Rift had absconded with warranted a great punishment from his elders. Rift was not allowed to exist in his new world. The fibers of his being were spread into millions of beings that eventually became known as Monarchs across the New World.
Each Monarch was sovereign over a galaxy, often, these reigns were full of terror and fear. And the ones that lay helpless to the Monarchs would wonder time and time again why their creators were such cruel objects. And they did not know that Rift was a being of separation.
These Monarchs paraded through their territories proclaiming they had given the planets life, breathing them a breath of fresh air, asserting their benevolence across the New Worlds.
Yet, despite the gifts and goodness the Monarchs claimed to possess, their one true responsibility was to maintain the Rift. To ensure that their mortal beings could never leave their galaxy—perhaps, out of selfishness; perhaps, out of a sense of protection. Either way, most civilizations ended the same way: a grand erasing, completed satisfactorily by their ruling Monarch.
Besides their responsibilities, Monarchs hid a singular secret. Every Monarch’s fantasy is to leave the New World, despite all of the bloody worlds borne out of the Monarchs’ rage and fear. It is an essential, mysterious pull, a pull not defined by an action but rather an attitude: to return back to Rift’s home and seal the Rift. They want to go to the land that Rift came from, where Rift came from before he created a Universe too vast to ever leave. But there can only be one Monarch left before the chosen last Spirit of Rift can ever leave the Universe, as his shattered parts can never come back together.
Thus, the flight: outside of the lands of each Monarch’s reign is empty space. Empty space where Monarchs without galaxies fight bloody battles on their starships, waging terrible, murderous wars, in order to earn the pilgrimage of their fantasies.
Prior to gaining this knowledge, Monarchs stayed in their lands indefinitely— reigning over their galaxies alone for eons. But Rift was a greedy creature. Upon learning that only one Spirit of Rift could leave the Universe, the Monarchs’ covetousness consumed them. They created technologies for war, armies, demons that dwelled in black holes, angels that roamed worlds looking for soldiers, eventually to die as stellar nebula, stars that died and were eaten by devils of antimatter. Ghosts that went on thousand-year vengeance trips; whispers of ghouls that were legends among galaxies rumored to break the lands behind a being’s eyes, twist their minds, and shatter a soul. Ghosts ships from years long past, spirits of intelligent demigods that went a bit too far past their galaxy. Space monuments, ancient towers that often stood solitary between lightyears of empty black cold. When the Monarchs gathered armies, they would foster demigods— a dangerous system that relied on half-god half-mortal children. A sort of demigod that could gain unfathomable power with the right trigger. Many lived on mortal planets never to learn of their true form, and many lived alone, beings forged in solar fire surviving alone and unshielded in the vacuum of space, on an icy planet so far from a star they would never see light, never know what they would look like. And finally, the heroes and saints of the mortals— those trained from childhood to fight— would die with their Monarch’s name in their mouths and be brought to life again to be glorified in their Monarch’s sight.
--Kibsil's Various Generations--
The First Humanity was Kibsil’s first experiment with intelligent life. This is humanity as we know it. Kibsil’s First Humanity has had not only the longest lifespan out of the three existing ones, but also the biggest mystery. In the year 5032, Kibsil’s First evacuated Kibstoyla on many ships, fearing the end of the world. Around a hundred years into their mission — many of the humans were in a stasis state — all eight of the ships, filled to the brim with billions of humans, disappeared. One can safely assume Kibsil destroyed the ships, but no one is sure. Time, a First Humanity concept, went on total reset once they disappeared.
Kibsil’s Second Humanity originated about a thousand years later. Kibsil formed the Second Humanity directly on the wasting planet that the First had left abandoned, leaving the Second with vast amounts of resources and unused weapons of unfathomable destruction. Curiously, the Second Humanity waged endless war on each other with some pent up anger entwined in their genetic code. The Second Humanity, using the First’s calendar system, destroyed themselves in their year 1026.
Kibsil, distraught with his second failure, was overcome with a need to restore his honor. In his anger, he killed the star that gave Kibstolya power. Any flora or fauna that was left on apocalyptic Kibstolya shriveled and died. Without a backup plan, Kibsil installed safe islands on Kibstolya and abandoned two hundred demigods across the islands in a weak effort to restore his domain, to stay dormant for a thousand years or more and awaken at separate times. And a Third Humanity manifested from the darkness, settled in various places across the ruined planet. No one knows the exact gap between the Second Humanity’s ending and the Third’s beginning. After this final act of Creation, Kibsil fled to the Monarch’s war to leave the Universe.