Prologue: Sacred Shards

The multiverse is an infinite expanse of realms, endless in variety and number. Within each realm, molded by divine forces into intertwining bundles of timelines, a myriad of legends are told, time and time again, passed down through numerous generations. These legends are just as diverse as the worlds they are born from: from regaling tales of valiant heroes defeating ancient evils, to heartfelt stories of romance, to the rises and falls of many influential leaders. Legends rooted in all points of time, from the faded past, to the present, to even the distant future.

However, one specific legend, lurking within the heart of a particularly radiant universe, stood out against all others. It spoke of the achievements of a race of wondrous, creative beings, blessed with the ability to combine with one another into more powerful forms. Harnessing the mysterious essence of lustrous ores, they unfailingly restrained the force of their greatest enemies, a single-minded legion denoted by their lack of color, equal in sheer persistence and raw potential.

No matter the obstacle, be it a minor inconvenience or a world-threatening calamity, these creatures would use the power of their indomitable unity to overcome it. They resolved disputes between friends, engaged in comical hijinks, banded together to protect their homelands, explored beyond what was known, tirelessly searched for a long-lost treasure…and when the heart of their civilization was nearing its collapse, and their enemies on the precipice of victory, those who still stood remained steadfast, battling against the odds and reclaiming their beloved city. With the legion's influence dispelled, peace and harmony were restored, and the beings' tales came to an end.

…or at least, that's how most believe it goes.

Unbeknownst to many throughout the multiverse, even those observers most dedicated to studying this legend and its world, there is one final chapter of these creatures' journey, shrouded within the mists of time. Some may not believe it to be true, but it exists nonetheless.

It is a chapter unlike any others before it: it tells of the reawakening of a team of legendary heroes wielding a magnificent power with no equal, the ancient evil that lurks beneath the world's surface, awaiting the opportunity to engulf it in its bottomless maw, and the heroes' quest to prove their strength as everything they know and love is precariously balanced upon the scales of fate.

Although many are familiar with the origins of these beings, this story is an entirely new one. This is a story of light and darkness. This is a story of power and how one may use it for better or worse. This is a story of acknowledging and upholding the legacy forged by one's predecessors.

This is the story of the Elemental Mixels.

Now, let us begin…

Many millennia ago…

To say the sight he currently beheld was bewildering would've been a stark understatement. In all the years he had studied and observed the Genesis Cubit, never had he prepared for the possibility of facing its full, unadulterated power. Admittedly, he had expected to strike them down before they even had considered the Cubit an option.

Standing before him was a hulking behemoth of a Mix, its hide adorned in a cornucopia of colors and its form so utterly titanic it could singlehandedly block out the Lightbulb Sun. Claws, fangs and protrusions decorated its massive body, glowing with their respective elemental energies. Unlike most cases, where a Cubit would dissipate into pure energy upon a Mix being completed, the shards of the Genesis Cubit remained intact, embedded into the Mix's chest. They pulsated with unknown depths of energy, accentuating the giant's terrifying stature. Its numerous eyes glared down at him, with a casual disdain akin to that of a Mixel staring down at an Antroach. Undoubtedly, it was the embodiment of everything he knew the Genesis Cubit was capable of, what he once attempted to claim for himself…only now turned against him, used for the ultimate goal of striking him down.

He knew very well that no creature, be they Mixel or Nixel, would even entertain the thought of contending with such a being. He had little choice, however. His army had been decimated, his strategies had been unraveled, and he was now firmly backed into a corner. He sighed. If this was to be the end of his fate, then so be it. It didn't mean he would go down easily, though.

Brandishing his scimitar, its crystalline blade as black as the darkest shadows, he leapt up toward the gigantic Mix, releasing a guttural war cry as he did so. Once he was high enough, he changed his momentum, driving the blade downward directly toward the beast's chest, plunging it into its flesh with as much vigor as he could muster.

The Mix barely flinched.

With one of its massive hands, it promptly plucked him and his blade from its skin, flinging them to the ground below like pieces of garbage. Recovering from the impact, he could do nothing else but watch as the Mix's ravenous maw gradually opened, an orb formed from an amalgamation of elemental energies slowly growing within. The various elements - fire, ice, electricity, slime, magic, and several more - crackled and sizzled as the orb grew exponentially in size.

He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the protests of his weary muscles as he stood defiantly before the titan. No matter the odds, he refused to surrender even for a moment. He had come too far to lose to this. To lose to them.

Summoning his last ounces of stamina, he picked up his blade, pointing it directly upward at the beast, as if to shield him from the inevitable attack. The Mix was hardly fazed, however – its energy orb had grown to encompass its entire maw, glowing as brightly as the Lightbulb Sun. A split second later, the Mix fired, unleashing a massive beam of unadulterated color energy. The impact was devastating, leaving behind a gargantuan crater in its wake and creating a mushroom cloud large enough to be seen from space.

With that, the battle had drawn to a close. He lay in the center of the crater, pain overwhelming his body. He could hardly muster the will to move. The residual color energy snaked around his charred body, stinging like the deadliest venom. Its purpose fulfilled, the Mix's form glowed a blinding white, dissolving into pure color energy. Once the light faded, fifteen Mixels stood where the Mix once had, the Genesis Cubit floating gently behind them.

Eventually, the pain had subsided enough to allow his muscles to move again. He slowly grappled his way out of the gaping crater, grunting with every motion. Once he reached the surface, he looked up to meet his adversaries' faces, their eyes glimmering with the fires of resentment and scorn. The lead Mixel among the group, bearing the trademark scarlet and maroon of an Infernite, stepped forth. "That's enough, Nixxius," he stated. "You cannot withstand the true power of the Genesis Cubit, just as you could not before."

Nixxius gritted his teeth. Who was this self-righteous fool to dictate whether he was worthy of the Cubit's power? He refused to stand for it. He glared up at the Infernite, his gaze equally hateful. "You…you really think this is over?" His breaths were shaky and erratic, yet his voice still boomed with its typical volume. "My army may be shattered, but I can simply rebuild it anew. I swear upon my life, I will bring your accursed species to its knees, just as I nearly did before you used that wretched Cubit. I will claim that Cubit for my own, and I will use it to shape my perfect world, just as it was intended to be used." His monochrome limbs trembled with every word. "And when I do…I promise none of you will survive! ESPECIALLY YOU, FERNUS!"

Fernus could only shake his head in disappointment. It was painfully obvious Nixxius would never repent for the destruction he wrought upon Mixelkind. As much as he hated to admit it, there was only one reliable solution, and he, as well as his fellow Elementals, knew this was as clear as day. A pang of regret tinged his heart as he stared down at the Nixel monarch before him.

"You can talk all you wish, Nixxius, but your reign of terror is at an end," Fernus sternly spoke. "No longer will you terrorize our world or our kind again, and we shall make sure of that." He turned to the Wiztastic standing behind him. "Mystarr, do you have the device?"

Mystarr nodded, before lifting her two-fingered hand, a pale indigo aura surrounding it. With her powers, she revealed a strange artifact in her possession, levitating it through the air before letting it fall into Fernus' claws. The artifact was unlike anything ever conceived by either Mixel or Nixel, one even Nixxius was intrigued by: its base was formed from a dense layer of obsidinite, housing a thin ring of bronzium. The ring itself held what appeared to be a large, irregularly shaped prism. Growths protruded from its sides, and its top was recessed, almost like a crater. Strangest of all, it bore no color, only reflecting the natural sunlight like glass would.

"What is this?" Nixxius asked, perplexed. "Something that shall ensure that your wake of destruction permanently ceases," Mystarr calmly replied, not breaking her gaze on the former.

Fernus sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "I never wanted any of this to happen, Nixxius. None of us did. Even so…" he began. As his eyes reopened, the vitriolic passion within them had somewhat dulled, now suffused with regret.

"This is what must be done. I'm sorry."

Before Nixxius had a chance to reply, Fernus thrust the prism forward, its recessed end inches away from the Nixel. Expecting an attack, Nixxius flinched away from the crystal. And yet…nothing came. As he stared at the prism, he wondered what Fernus hoped to accomplish by directing it at him. After all, what was stopping him from shattering it right in front of them?

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden tingling spreading throughout his body, light yet digging so deeply into his skin it seemed to pierce his soul. It was then Nixxius also noticed several wisps of black smoke floating toward the crystal, tinting it ever so slightly gray. His eyes followed the wisps' trails, looking for their source…only to realize it was his own fingers. They disintegrated into a blackened mist, drawn toward the crystal by an unknown force.

Confusion turned to abject horror. His fate was abundantly clear.

"N-no, no, stop!" he pleaded, his arms and torso beginning to dissipate as well. "You cannot do this to me! I am the one destined to rule this world!"

"It is far too late for mercy, Nixxius," Glayshur, the Frosticon Elemental, replied. "You must face your punishment." Nixxius struggled to escape, but felt himself held in place by the same force absorbing his essence into the prism, like a star gradually drawn toward a black hole. The more he struggled, the more his form distorted and blurred, the more his essence drained away. The prism had now become an ashen gray.

Hearing Glayshur's blunt response enraged the Nixel ruler further. "This…this is all because of you fools!" he roared, struggling to maintain his form. "You made me into this! You-"

"What happened to you wazzz zzzolely becauzzze of your own actionzzz." Sparktik, the Electroid Elemental, was next to speak. "And after today, it shall never happen to anyone again."

Nixxius struggled to form another response, yet his efforts were in vain; too much of his essence had drained into the prism like water sucked into a corsponge. His vision blurred. The crystal's color grew darker, darker still. Little more than a floating collection of wisps now, Nixxius summoned every last iota of rage and resentment within him to unleash one final screech:

"You…YOU MISERABLE MIXEEEEEeeeeellls…" With that, the last of Nixxius' essence was absorbed, leaving nothing but his screams echoing across the land. The crystal that Fernus held was now as black as the Nixel that once stood before him, the energy held inside swirling and pulsing violently. The Infernite let out a sigh of relief. "It's finally over," he murmured to himself.

Following the Battle for Mixelkind, reconstruction of Mixel civilization had promptly begun. In just a matter of weeks, their primary settlement, Chromatulum, was almost fully restored. With a fraction of the original population remaining, Mixels found cooperation and teamwork more important than ever. Through their collective unity, the Mixels managed to keep their civilization afloat, and settlement became more widespread. Food supplies gradually increased, towns expanded, and buildings were fortified with additional defenses.

The Nixels had also survived, if only by a thread, but whatever remained of their once-terrifying army had since retreated underground, taking refuge in the vast network of caverns below. For the time being, they were not a major threat. As for their leader, now sealed away within the Purebrite Prism, the Elementals agreed to take measures to protect the world from his influence. Entrusting a group of Chromatulum's scouts with the prism, Fernus directed them toward the outskirts of Mixel Land, where no tribe dwelled, and ordered them to hide the prism within its darkest depths.

The Elementals were left with one last dilemma to resolve, however. Though the Genesis Cubit was what allowed them to prevail over the Nixels, keeping it around was too great a risk – what was there to assure them that no one would walk the same dark path as Nixxius and attempt to claim the Cubit's power for themselves? After all, the Genesis Cubit was the catalyst for their species' existence; that alone meant it held far more potential than any other Cubit – and was far more dangerous.

"What are we supposed to do-o-o-o?" Flipber, the Flexer Elemental, inquired. The Elementals were now congregated within the Genesis Cubit's temple atop Mt. Miscere, discussing solutions to the issue at hand. The ore itself sat upon the large marble table before him, softly humming with mysterious energy. "It's not as if we can simply move it somewhere else. It only seems to move, or at least teleport, at its own discretion," the Flexer continued.
"Indeed," agreed Boglite, his slimy tail idly flicking back and forth. "If only there was a way for us to split up its power so it wouldn't all be in one place…but that couldn't be possible, could it?"

The table fell silent as all pondered this new proposition. Cubits could be shattered, that they knew from the recent invasion. Could this also apply to the Genesis Cubit, if through less destructive means? The idea was intriguing, but all of them knew quite well how unpredictable and powerful the Cubit was. If the worst came to pass, they could end up destroying it completely.

Suddenly, Fernus perked up, his eyes alight with newfound determination. "Actually, that could work," he said, breaking the silence. Everyone turned to him, their faces painted with confusion and intrigue. "Think about it," the Infernite continued. "This Cubit is connected to our essences. It is what gave us our colors and abilities. Perhaps, through that connection, we could be able to carefully divide it amongst ourselves."

"That's impossible," Glayshur retorted. "Nothing like that has ever been attempted with a Cubit, much less one as large as this."
"It's still worth a shot, isn't it?" Fernus replied. Glayshur opened his mouth to respond, but decided against it.

Without hesitation, Fernus hoisted himself onto the table housing the Genesis Cubit. He latched onto its red segment, digging his claws into the ore. Exerting as much strength as he could, he pulled on the Cubit, struggling to loosen the segment from the grasp of the others. Below, Glayshur turned to Kinzock, the Coppore Elemental sitting beside him. "Pull him down if anything goes wrong," he whispered. Kinzock simply nodded. As the bulkiest of the Elementals, he was usually the one they relied on whenever a situation called for brute strength.

Undeterred, Fernus continued to pull, harnessing the full extent of his willpower. The more he pulled, the brighter the spikes adorning his back burned. The nerves in his claws screamed in anguish. Sweat cascaded down his face. His teeth scraped against each other like grindstones.

The Genesis Cubit, for lack of a better term, promptly burst.

Light in every conceivable color poured outward from the temple, so immeasurably bright it could be seen from hundreds of miles away. For several moments, the temple was completely engulfed in light, transforming into a miniature supernova. After what felt like hours, the light began to fade, allowing the Elementals to see properly once more.
What they saw left them utterly astonished. Fernus had tumbled into his chair, a large red Cubit shard in his grasp. A pile of similarly large shards lay on the pedestal, their colors matching each of the Mixels' tribes.

It took several moments for Glayshur to muster a reaction. "I…I don't believe it," he breathed. "It actually worked? The Genesis Cubit split?" Mystarr whispered, staring at the assorted crystals.

"At least now we can easily split up its power," Fernus added, walking over to the group. One by one, the Elementals withdrew their respective tribes' shards from the pile. It was only after all had been claimed, however, that Titerra noticed something was amiss.

"Hey, something missing!" she said, pointing toward the empty table. "Where white shard?" Upon a second check, the sixteenth segment of the Genesis Cubit was indeed mysteriously absent. The Elementals turned their gazes toward the empty seat at one end of the table. It was not long before a harsh realization dawned on the group, their expressions equally desolate. A deafening silence filled the air. All of them knew that after that fateful day, the Genesis Cubit would never truly be whole, and neither would the Elemental Mixels.

Sorrow and despair was present on every Mixel's face. Gradually, Fernus returned his gaze to the group. "What happened in the weeks prior was devastating, and a massive tragedy for all of Mixelkind," he affirmed, his voice as composed as he could manage. "Though we may not be able to fix the mistakes of the past…" He lifted up the Infernite-aligned shard for emphasis. "...the least we can do is ensure the future is brighter."

The other Elementals turned to one another, muttering among themselves. Out of nowhere, Glayshur then spoke up. "As much as I disagree with some of Fernus' decisions as leader, he is correct," he said, walking over to join the Infernite, azure shard in hand. "These are the pieces of the most powerful Cubit in existence, and it is our duty to use them responsibly and wisely. We must use them to shape this world to be better for all, instead of for pursuing selfish fantasies as Nixxius did."

"So what do we do?" Boglite asked. "How do we exactly intend to shape this world?" Fernus pondered this question for a brief moment, before his face lit up once more. "We'll protect it, like we always have – but not just us." Glayshur raised a frost-covered eyebrow, turning to Fernus.

"We will hide these shards away," Fernus continued, increasingly enthusiastic. "Far away, deep in our tribal lands. When the time is right, we shall seek out the most noble and valiant among our tribes, and pass the shards onto them, letting them bear the responsibility as the new Elementals. From there, we can allow them to continue what we started, and let them pass them down to the next generation, and the next, and the next after it, so that this world shall always be protected from insurgents like Nixxius!" Fernus' voice had substantially increased in volume, his voice reverberating throughout the temple. "Through these shards, our legacy shall be preserved for years to come!"

The other Elementals erupted into cheers and agreement, enamored by the Infernite's bold declaration. Grinning ear to ear, Fernus turned to Glayshur, who simply returned his expression with a calm smile. Both knew that on that day, the foundation for a massive legacy had been forged.

Fernus trekked through the winding cavern, his footsteps echoing off of the walls. Fireball in claw, he descended further, deeper than he'd gone before. He glanced at the Cubit shard in his other claw. Its immaculate surface, gleaming in the dim light, only reaffirmed his confidence in his statement from the day before.

Eventually, he reached a small alcove, almost completely barren save for several small cairns of igneous rock and a thin lava flow trickling down from a hole in one of the walls. He approached the largest cluster of obsidinite, tucking the Cubit shard inside. Ensuring it couldn't be seen, he then marked the wall above it with a scorch mark, lest he forget its location in future.

As he exited the alcove, Fernus was aware that the others were likely hiding their own shards in similar fashions, ensuring they were out of sight and reach. Admittedly, he himself was uncertain about this idea at first. The more he had announced it to his comrades, however, the more certainty he gained, and judging from their reactions, the feeling was quite mutual.

Fernus cracked a small smile. The Mixels were a species full of kind, creative, and wonderful people, and he knew that somewhere in the molten wastelands he called home, there was another Infernite like him, eagerly waiting to call the sacred shard their own and become one of the shining stars among Mixelkind. All he had to do now was wait for that person to reveal themselves and take up the great torch of destiny.