Doom was not born of darkness—he was forged in it.
Long before the world of Giver knew his name, he was a nameless boy, abandoned in the shattered remains of a war-torn kingdom. He learned early that mercy was a myth and hope was a weapon wielded by the powerful. While others begged the gods for an...swers, he listened instead to the silence—and in it, he found a different kind of truth.
Magic flowed through Giver, but for him, it never came as a gift. It came as a curse—raw, wild, and hungry. He tamed it not with chants, but with fury. While others studied runes and rituals, Doom carved his will into the very fabric of reality through pain and survival. His power grew not from heritage or prophecy, but from defiance.
Now, he wears no crown, holds no banner, and claims no allegiance. He is the reckoning no one saw coming—the flaw in the world’s balance, the wound in its lore. His story is still unwritten, not because it has yet to begin, but because none have survived to tell it.
In the world of Giver, legends are earned. Doom is coming to rewrite them. (more)