Nocturne, the homeworld of the Salamanders, was a renowned death world.
Its two stars and its moon, Prometheus, brought catastrophe to Nocturne. Once every Nocturnean year-fifteen standard Terran years-the planet faced a "Judgment Day."
The surface was torn apart by immense gravitational forces, magma gushed from the fissures, and waves dozens of meters high rose from the oceans.
These horrific natural disasters continually destroyed human civilization on Nocturne, leaving its people to fight with stone weapons like savages.
The terrifying giant salamanders also delighted in hunting Nocturne's humans. Only tribes that stood united could escape their predation, and thus the "Seven Holy Cities" came into being.
Faith in "Prometheus" had been passed down through generations on Nocturne. Its people believed that one day, a "Prometheus" would appear to save humanity on Nocturne and restore their golden age.
Then he appeared.
He possessed astonishing wisdom and unyielding determination. With his knowledge, he taught people to forge weapons in magma. With his powerful body, he charged at the forefront and routed the salamanders.
The tribes of the Seven Holy Cities gathered around him, all believing that he was "Prometheus."
His name was Vulkan.
Today, almost everyone on Nocturne had gathered at the foot of its largest volcano. An unbroken volcanic range stretched across Nocturne's land, and near the crater, the leaders of the Seven Tribes had assembled.
The people spontaneously formed a human stairway. Dressed in finery or humble clothes, they watched the sturdy young men pass along the sacred flame.
This sacred flame had been brought from the Eternal Palace of Themis, passed step by step from the foot of Death Mountain by tribal warriors who had slain salamanders.
Now, the last warrior rushed forward, panting as he held the torch high. Sweat covered his skin, but his expression never wavered.