Hundreds of years had passed since the Liberation, or, as the insurgents would wish to refer to it as, the Invasion. Many still remember the day when the trumpets hailed the king of the empire as he marched his way along with the Commander of Military Decrees back to the hearth of the Liberation, the land where the Order had first begun its days. Millions of his supporters and troops followed in his wake, and the day of victory was marked as an honored holiday, where people would feast and compete in violent sports that re-enacted the turning points of the war. After just two years of magical research by the magikill, it was possible to tame giants using an expensive set of massive chains that would brainwash its wearer. Giants had become an integral part of the Orderanian's lifestyle since then; they worked the fields, served as transportation, and ensured that a revolution would never happen. All was well and perfect...

Or so the history books have told.

Tales speak only of the heroism of the leaders of Order, yet there is a suspicious level of praise within them. Were failures ever mentioned? Moments of corruption, or a conspiracy, perhaps? Why should the Orderanians be concerned anyhow? They were quite content with their lifestyle, so much that not even the wisdom of the Magikill would question their history.

What really happened is still a mystery, even to the rebels, who have hidden themselves away. Their own past experiences, however, contradict greatly against what the Council of Order has told their people. Why does no one remember the animals that populated the world? The Order warriors did not simply walk around the entire continent; many of us remember the ferocious 'crawlers', humanoid mounts who could have easily ripped a man's head off in seconds. They attacked in huge swarms, yet they all suddenly disappeared once the Liberation was complete. Only rare sightings have occurred here and there, but if they prove to be true, then the Crawlers have devolved into a much smaller state. And what of the Magikill's spawns? Summoning magic was also forbidden with the end of the Liberation, but such spawns were inaccurately described as 'little devils', when really, they arose from the unburied remains of fallen soldiers to take revenge upon the living. Eclipsors were all but gone; the gentle 'winged beasts' have actually been in Orderanian history, but they also vanished soon after the Liberation, due to humans using them for archery practice.

Only a few rebels survived the Invasion. They hid within the caves of the land, and a shoddy truce was all that kept them from leaping at each other's throats. Despite the terrible disadvantage they had now against the Order Empire, they continued to populate until every speck of land that was once uninhabited was now otherwise. Not only that, but they had dropped their differences and began to benefit from each other's successes. The shadowrath are an interesting example of this; they originated from a few wise swordswrath who studied the art of magic and the fighting style of speartons to create a soldier who would be able to learn the weak points of his enemies in seconds, improving in the midst of battle.

A secret that no one could have anticipated, however, was the corruption of the animals. The reason for their disappearance was an indirect cause of the death of the King Giant, who was sealed away in a statue because of an abnormal soul that grew within him. After his death, the soul escaped to the outside world, taking the life of an Orderanian to gain the physical form of Medusa. This spirit was not evil at first. It simply wished to take vengeance for the horrible things it witnessed: the hunting of Eclipsors, the enslavement of giants, and the greedy Order Empire. Witnessing these acts began to corrupt it until it used its inherent powers to call the remaining races that were abused by humans. Crawlers were trained to be stealthy, Deads were smart enough to throw their guts, Eclipsors practiced with the bow, and the Giants captured many Orderanians to be used as slaves (in the form of miners, suicide bombers, or a second weapon). Through this training did Medusa find that undead Magikill were different from other deads, in that they could learn magic at the cost of much of their body.

When the rebels finally began the Revolution, it was the perfect time for Medusa and her army to take what had been taken from them. The name of Chaos comes from the fact that their assault in the Chaos of the Revolution nearly doomed the Order Empire, reminding them of what would become if they continued their ways. This also explains why the insurgents formed an alliance with the Empire after Medusa revealed herself.

"Your honor, the preparations are nearly complete. It would be best for you to lead the parade now."
"Thank you, servant. You may join the crowd once you send the message that everyone is to have the rest of the day off."
Not a single face in the world beamed more than that of the laborer as he excitedly rushed out of the gigantic tent as the bearer of great news. The king couldn't help but sigh with relief. The years of turmoil between Order and the Four Kingdoms have finally ended, and the massive feast that was to begin today was the final resting point of the war, starting with the public executions of all four rebel leaders.
"Men, prepare the march! Arm those fireworks and ready your trumpets! Today, we make HISTORY."
The flaps of the tent were set ablaze by two torchbearers, and light flooded into the structure. Why settle for anything less than the most dramatic of entrances?
"And so, from this day forth, Order shall reign with a fist of justice and a flag of peace! ONWARDS, MEN!"
Despite the blinding sunlight, thousands of the best veterans of the war followed the king as their presence split a path in the colossal crowd waiting outside. The children couldn't help but squeal at their fathers, who remained dignified with each perfectly timed step. One could not help but feel a sense of pride in their all-powerful ruler...

"Damn them."
Lysander the Spearton banged his fist against the cold, unforgiving cell wall. Beside him sat Thybault the Swordswrath, and in the opposite cell, Ford the archidon and Epicurus the Magikill. All were stripped of their weapons and their power, left to rot in their makeshift prison cells until their ceremonial purification.
"A.K.A. our beheadings..."
"What the hell is wrong with these guys?! Oh, sure, just hand over your technology and way of life OR WE'LL SLAUGHTER ALL OF YOUR CITIZENS!" Lysander bellowed in rage.
Ford replied in a war-wearied voice, "Calm down, tough guy. I thought your kind were not afraid of death?"
"I WOULD RATHER DIE IN BATTLE THAN BY AN UNJUST AXE!!!"
"Will you shut up?" It was Thybault's turn to react. "We were the idiots who kept on thinking our way was the only way, we were bound to lose without the support of our people."
"WHO ARE YOU TO TALK?!"
"Me? Oh, I'm just the guy who could instantly convince twenty people to join my army in seconds without having to pay a fortune."
"Your nation lost to a bunch of morons wielding CLUBS."
"Hey, YOUR nation lost to ONE guy with a club."
Silence pervaded the two cells as fireworks interrupted their little conversation. A series of trumpets blared out traditional songs, and servants could be heard dashing to and fro outside of their stone cold prisons. A guard walked up to the space in-between both cells before stating,
"Your day of judgement has come. Come quietly and we won't have to make this painful. At least, not too painful."

Epicurus was now standing in the front of a line of chained people who were all soon to be martyrs. The collective crowd on the platform below theirs boo'ed and threw pebbles and sticks at the four. Even amidst the noise of ten thousand people, everyone could hear Lysander growling in anger. It was the first time any of these four commanders had seen the face of that despicable statue that represented their falls.
"People of Order! Today is a festive day for celebrating the end of the struggle for our namesake! Yet, it shall also be the day that the gavel of justice will fall. These four sickening dictators shall pay for the torture of their people and ours with their lives!"
The crowd couldn't help but fall into an uproar of bloodthirsty cheering.
"The first to be punished here shall be Epicurus, leader of the violent and unpredictable Magikill! May the end of his days compensate for his crime!"
The old man was pushed onto the stand by a lance, and he tilted his head to glimpse his executioner; a cloaked, hulking man with a sword stolen from Thybault's designs. It was surprising to hear such a gentle voice from him speak,
"Sorry, but the law is the law. I'm surprised a geezer like you could stand up to such terrible stress..."
Epicurus remained silent.
"Well, say your last prayers fast. These people won't be happy if I take my time..."
A strange gleam shone on the wizard's eyes, but the executioner took no heed to it. He raised his sword, now oblivious to the screams in the crowd; he tried his hardest to focus on happier days, when he wasn't a Spearton slave to the Order.
He raised his sword high up, and closed his eyes...
...and was pulled into the air by one of an army of giants.

Another flash of light blasted from the magikill's eyes in the chaos that ensued, and all four leaders were suddenly freed of their binding chains. Epicurus doesn't remember too much from then on; at one point did Lysander grab a fallen spear and stab his way out of the crowd, while Ford tried to get away, only to be swept by a giant's club. Thybault was nowhere to be found, and the mage does not even remember how he escaped. All he knows is that not a single Orderanian remembers this daring escape, and that he would have to find a younger magikill to pass his wisdom onto quickly, before his time came...

"A giant has no feelings. They are the representation of monsters, beasts capable of death and destruction with no civilization. For years, the collective human race has regarded them as the bane of society: they kidnap our families, rip apart our land, and give no thought to stealing our weapons. For years, we have driven them back to the brink of extinction, and struck down fifty for every casualty they have given us. For YEARS have we remained sworn enemies, ready to leap at each other's throats."

"Today, this will all change."

The locked-up giant had the ability to comprehend this hurtful speech, but it had no voice of its own. A young, beaming Orderanian Magikill continued to rant about the power of the chains that now held him down in front of a massive crowd of warriors and officials. They would never realize the horrors that brought about their race, the tragic tale passed down from generation to generation through a mental communication that seemed to open for all manner of living things except humans. Two souls abused by a Magikill, whom had possessed their once-human leaders and repopulated into an entirely new, half-human, half-beast population of peace. The humans, frightened by these 'monstrosities', struck them down one by one in packs, and the Queen had fallen to one of these very packs. In its anger, the soul that possessed the King grew violent, and his barbarism spread to the rest of the giant race like a virus.

"And now, I present to you twenty years worth of magic research! Denmius, activate the chains."

Suddenly, the nameless titan fell to the ground, shrieking in pain. Dozens of royals stepped back to avoid the rest of its nightmarish suffering. The shock from his chains continued for a few seconds, and the beast no longer felt his body.

"With these massive shackles, I can now entirely control the giant with just the snap of my thoughts. Not only that, but a little magic and money investment allows your new slave to grow in size, until no one dares to attempt to invade your home! They may come at a costly price, but you'll never have to defend yourself or work the fields again!"

...and such were the last words the giant heard before it lost consciousness.