In the ancient breaths of the universe, an era so remote that it predates the very concept of time as we understand it, there thrived a regal figure, a prince whose visions were steeped in the purest of aspirations. His soul ached for a realm untouched by the maladies of anguish and the pervasive rot of depravity. In days long lost to the mists of antiquity, he glided through his dominion, an ethereal expanse teeming with the delicate splendor of endless blossoms. These flowers were not mere botanical creations but symbolic manifestations of hope and joy. Yet, that once vibrant tapestry of life has now deteriorated into a haunting tableau of desolation, ravaged by the relentless tempest of anger and the devouring flames of Greek fire. He, who once inhaled the nebulous steps of creation to impart vigor to the far reaches of the cosmos, now witnesses the slow, inexorable descent of that same cosmos into a silent, sorrowful slumber, an abyss where dreams are suffocated by the creeping fog of oblivion. Tragically, this boy was stolen - ruthlessly ripped away from the warmth of dreams that he so lovingly wove. He was severed from the sacred fellowship of his kin, the eternal and omnipotent Primordial Gods, beings of unfathomable power and wisdom who forged the stars and kindled the first sparks of life. More heartrendingly, he was torn from the nurturing embrace of his mother, the Architect of the Universe, Lady Chaos. Behold the poignant odyssey of Perseus: The Prince of the Cosmos, the final harbinger of the primordial essence, the Last Protogenos.