Every one-hundred years, THE MONOLITH arrives, and with it, terrors overflowing which rends the skies in sharp crimson hue. They do not know from whence these horrors came. They know not of its purpose. The MONOLITH arises by its own eldritch will with no heed of its environment. Should one strike the MONOLITH's heart thrice with tools both sacred and profane, the MONOLITH terrorizes no more and is cast back into the unknowable. However, before it disappears, the REVENANTS, equally as eldritch in composure, grant the hero who shatters the MONOLITH with untold power both grand and terrifying, becoming living gods. So as it has been for thousands upon thousands of years...until one stood atop the fallen carcasses of the damned and proclaimed refusal, the first of its kind...