NaBi, a planet where you can choose your story

Before light, before sound, before time dared to breathe, there was the Void. An abyss without beginning or end, without up or down, where nothing was born and nothing died. Only silence inhabited it, deep and absolute, a silence so vast that it merged with everything.

There, floating in nameless eternity, slept a solitary rock. It didn't spin, it didn't shine, it didn't grow. It was barely a shadow suspended in nothingness. That rock was called NaBi, although there was still no mouth to pronounce its name.

For countless eons, the Void remained motionless. But one day —if time can be counted where time did not exist— something changed. It wasn't a sound, a spark, or a shape. It was a rumor. A slight tremor, a vibration so faint that only the universe itself could hear it.

From that rumor, the first thought was born. And from that thought, a will. The Original Being, a force without face or name, awoke from nothingness. Nobody knows where it came from, or if it was ever anything more than a dream of the Void itself. Some say it was the desire to exist made flesh; others, that it was the echo of something that had existed before the universe.

The Original Being looked at the sleeping rock and touched it with his breath. NaBi trembled. Fire sprang from its depths, then water, then earth. The air rose over her skin, and her first breath filled the cosmos.

Thus time began. Thus the first dawn was born.

But the Original Being, upon contemplating what He had created, understood the price of His gift. Each breath of life was an open wound in the Void; Every glimmer of light, a betrayal of eternal silence.

And so, the Original Being vanished. Some believe that it dissolved into thin air and that its essence was scattered in fragments. Others hid in the shadows of the world he was born into, waiting for the day NaBi would remember him.

Only its trace remained: a sleeping heart at the center of the planet, beating so slowly that not even the gods could hear it. A secret

When NaBi's heart began to beat beneath its crust of rock and water, five lights appeared on the horizon out of nowhere. They were not suns, nor stars, nor flames that could be touched; they were primordial presences, entities that brought with them the form, the essence, and the memory of the world that was just awakening.

They were called the First Inhabitants, although their names would later be whispered only by those who would venerate them:

Aqualis, Lord of the Waters, who transformed the liquid into life, giving rise to rivers, lakes and seas. Her body was fluid, ever-changing like the waves, and her eyes reflected depths where no one could look without getting lost. Wherever she touched, the water breathed, sang, and moved as if it had a consciousness of its own.

Nivara, Mother of Ice and Memory. Her figure was as white as eternal snow, and each crystal that fell from her hair told stories of times that never were. Her icy breath preserved the past, etching it into every mountain, every glacier, and every storm that raged silently.

Verdanos, the Colossus of the Jungle. Covered in leaves, branches, and luminous flowers, he walked with steps that made life spring forth beneath his feet. Where his shadow fell, the earth breathed; where his heart beat, forests were born. His voice was a murmur of sap and wind, teaching the jungle to grow and the beings that would inhabit it to survive.

Solara, Lady of the Sun and the Flame. Her skin glowed with the golden light of a thousand sunrises, and every ray that emanated from her ignited the world's life force. Wherever she went, life grew stronger; wherever she rested, the desert became an altar of light. Her hands forged bodies, and her eyes taught the strength of existing in absolute clarity.

Umbros, Lord of Shadows. Enveloped in smoke and silence, his steps left no trace. His red eyes pierced the darkness, and his breath could unravel the form of anything. He created the abysses, the caverns, and the shadowlands, and taught his people to move

When the children of the gods awoke to the light of NaBi, each one found a world that reflected the essence of their creator. Their bodies, still formed from primordial energy, took shape on the earth, ice, water, light, and shadow. Each being was different, but all shared a fragment of the divine power that had created them.

The Aguatuar emerged from the tears of Aqualis. Their skin reflected the blue of the seas, and their movements imitated the dance of the currents and the waves. They learned to listen to the secrets of the water, to navigate the rivers before there were boats, and to breathe in the depths where no one else could reach.

The Nevarius, children of Nivara, were born from ice crystals that fell on the glaciers. White as eternal snow, with eyes that reflected the memory of the world, they learned to read the past in every crystal and to walk with the patience of ice that never breaks, but that holds ancient secrets.

The Verdenatu sprouted from the roots of the nascent jungle, touching the ground with their hands and feeling the sap run through their veins. Every tree, every flower, and every vine recognized them as guardians; every step they took made life grow around them. From them arose the songs of the jungle, and with their laughter, the wind began to sway the leaves.

The Solarium were forged in the sunlight and fire of Solara. Their yellow and golden bodies radiated energy, and with a simple gesture they could heat the arid land or make controlled fire spring up. They learned to reflect the clarity of day and to set the rhythm of the deserts, teaching their descendants to survive under the burning light and the truth that cannot be hidden.

The Shadow Ones, born from the gloom of Umbros, emerged from the smoke and darkness of the caverns. Silent, agile and stealthy, they learned to move without being seen, to listen to what others kept silent and to find refuge in the shadows.

When the children of the gods awoke on NaBi, each found a world that reflected the essence of their creator. Their bodies were shaped according to divine will, but so was the land around them, drawing the first living geography, a reflection of the identity of each race.

The Aguatuar, born from the tears of Aqualis, inhabited the seas, rivers, and lagoons. In their domains, vegetation grew into impossible shapes: giant amphibious plants that breathed underwater and on land, luminous algae that lit up the night, and trees capable of filtering salt water to feed their kind. Flowers floated like water lilies suspended in the air, while flying dolphins and winged fish soared through the skies above the lakes. Aguatuar society flowed like its waters: family clans gathered in streams and ponds, where cooperation and adaptation were the natural law, and conflicts dissolved like foam on the surface.

The Nevarius, children of Nivara, spread over mountains and eternal glaciers. Its lands were cold and silent, where crystalline fungi shone under the moon and bioluminescent lichens clung to the rock, illuminating the paths. Heat-retaining shrubs held life in the snow. Albino wolves with horns roamed among snow-capped peaks, and birds like snow kites crossed the skies. Their society was rigid and hierarchical, almost monarchical, governed by leaders who upheld the memory of the race and preserved the purity of the blood.

The Verdenatu, descendants of the Verdanos, populated the humid jungles and endless forests. Trees as tall as mountains, roots that moved slowly like living snakes, and giant carnivorous plants created a vertical world where life grew and regenerated endlessly. Colossal insects, camouflaged reptiles, and four-armed gorillas coexisted with the guardians of the jungle.

The Solarium, children of Solara, settled in the deserts and solar plains. Cacti that stored energy, flowers that only bloomed at midday, and shrubs that projected mirages protected their territory from the harsh sun. Solar felines, fire serpents, and birds with metallic feathers that reflected the light accompanied their warriors. Their society was a meritocracy: the strongest and most skilled led, and every act of courage was recognized and celebrated, like the rays of the sun that forged their spirit.

The Shadowed Ones, descendants of the Umbros, inhabited deep caverns and shadowy lands. The vegetation of his world absorbed the shadow: trees with bright red sap, poisonous fungi that glowed in the dark, and vines that drank the gloom instead of light. Giant bats, bright-eyed deer, and felines that became invisible when they moved accompanied the inhabitants. Their societies were secretive and ritualistic: power was gained in the shadows, and mysteries were jealously guarded.

The Great Conclave and the Law of Balance

To prevent the peoples from destroying each other, the gods established a pact: each race would keep its territory, its lineage, and its customs. The mixing of bloodlines and the invasion of foreign territories would not be permitted.

Thus was born the Great Conclave of NaBi, a council made up of one representative from each race. The Conclave did not rule each kingdom directly, but rather oversaw the balance: it resolved conflicts, moderated disputes, and ensured that the Mandate of Purity remained intact.

Meanwhile, each race ruled its domains according to its own laws:

The Aguatuar were fluid and adaptable clans, where cooperation was stronger than hierarchy.

The Nevarius with rigid and monarchical orders, where ancestral memory dictated the law.

The Verdenatu live in tribal communities, united as one organism with the jungle.

The Solariums through strength and merit, where only the most...

As the centuries passed, NaBi's harmony began to tremble. Although the gods had created the purity of each lineage and the Mandate had been respected, life has its own rhythm, and the hearts of NaBi's children could not always remain obedient.

Pride came first. The Solarium, forged in the light, began to measure the strength of their fire against that of others. They would gather at midday, when the sun was at its zenith, and test their power in trials of skill and combat, seeking to be recognized as the guardians of the day and the masters of vital energy.

The Nevarius, eternally cold and calculating, observed these displays of courage with disdain. Their mountains and glaciers protected them, but their gazes were as penetrating and cutting as ice. Through the fogs and storms, they sent emissaries to watch and warn, ensuring that no one broke discipline or defiled the memory of their ancestors.

The Aguatuar, masters of the currents and the seas, defended their routes with mastery. They controlled the rivers and lakes, blocking roads when the threat grew. Their flying dolphins and winged fish became messengers and sentinels, and their clans moved like waves, fluid and silent, weaving alliances with those they considered worthy and pushing away those who challenged their domains.

The Verdenatu, guardians of living jungles teeming with roots and leaves, hunted and defended their territory with ferocity. Every tree and plant responded to his touch; every creature, from giant insects to four-armed gorillas, followed his commands without hesitation. They could not tolerate the intrusion of others: the jungle itself taught them that the weakest were devoured by the natural cycle.

The Shadowed Ones, invisible in the gloom, secretly wove plans. While others confronted with force and open strategy, they observed from caverns and shadows. Their spies and giant bats carried hidden messages, and each decision

The first meeting of the NaBi Grand Conclave took place in a neutral clearing, where light and shadow were in balance, and the mist in the air carried a scent of damp earth, salt, and fire. Five thrones, each tailored to the essence of its inhabitants, surrounded a stone circle that resonated with the energy of the First Settlers.

There were representatives of the royal houses:

House Thalyss of the Aguatuar, blue skin and a gaze as serene as deep water.

House Glaceryn of the Nevarius, white skin and imposing bearing, eyes like ice crystals.

Casa Sylvara de los Verdenatu, green skin, fluid movements and a palpable connection with nature.

Solaris House of the Solarium, yellow skin, radiating heat and authority.

House Umbryn of the Shadowed Ones, black skin, intense gaze and invisible smile behind the shadow that enveloped his figure.

The atmosphere was charged with tension, as if the very earth held the breath of those present.

Conclave

Thalyss (Aguatuar): —Brothers, peace must be upheld. Our seas and rivers will not be crossed without consent. But… I see unease in the eyes of some. —(His voice flows like water, calming and firm at the same time)

Glaceryn (Nevarius): —The unease is natural. Some seek to break the Mandate, and their actions could freeze the harmony that took centuries to build. —(her voice is cold, each word heavy as a glacier; her hands are clasped rigidly)

Sylvara (Verdenatu): —Let's not fool ourselves. The jungle breathes and feels when someone disobeys. The forests don't forgive, and neither does our patience. —(her green eyes sparkle, and her fingers brush against invisible leaves growing around her)

Solaris (Solarium): —The sun's strength teaches that only the strong survive, but today… strength must yield to consensus. —(her upright posture, radiating light and warmth, her voice vibrant like a ray that does not wound)

Umbryn (Shadows): —And in the darkness we watched. Every secret, every forbidden glance.

Centuries have passed since the first meeting of the Grand Conclave. NaBi, young and turbulent in its beginnings, became a vibrant and diverse planet. Each territory reflects the essence of its creator god: endless jungles, scorching deserts, eternal glaciers, deep seas, and shadowy caverns.

The children of the First Inhabitants prospered, taking care of their lineages and respecting the Mandate of Purity. Each race, though isolated by geography and customs, was united by the invisible web of the Council, which oversaw peace and resolved disputes before conflict broke out.

Everyday life and ecosystems

Aguatuar: The lakes and rivers reflected submerged crystal cities, connected by bridges of living water. Blue children played among luminescent algae, while flying dolphins guided caravans of fish. Family clans shared knowledge about currents, tides, and safe routes.

Nevarius: The peaks and glaciers seemed to freeze time. The young people learned to read ice crystals, trained alongside albino wolves and snow birds, and revered the memory of their ancestors. Every decision was carefully considered: one wrong move could undo centuries of tradition.

Verdenatu: The jungles were living cities, where roots and leaves intertwined with homes and temples. Hunters moved among giant insects and four-armed gorillas, while shamans taught how to listen to the pulse of the forest. The community was a living organism, where each member had a purpose and a place.

Solarium: In the deserts, warriors and artisans coexisted under the scorching sun. Solar felines and metallic birds accompanied the training and rituals. Meritocracy set the pace of life: the strongest led, and every act of courage was recorded in solar history.

Somber: In caverns and shadows, secret societies thrived in silence. Giant bats and invisible felines were everyday companions.