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CoinbaseNFT Avatar: #00070 Morgrath - The Reaper
The Origin of Death
There was a time when death did not exist. The world was an endless wheel of life, a cycle without end. But as the gods looked upon the balance of creation, they realized that life without death was meaningless. Without mortality, there was no hope, no ambition, no value in existence. And so, they created him the first and only being to walk between worlds. His name was Morgrath, the Keeper of the End. But mortals knew him only as the Reaper.
Morgrath was neither god nor man. He was shaped from shadow and fire, his bones forged from the ashes of fallen stars. The gods bestowed upon him a blade crafted from pure darkness—a scythe that could sever the soul from its body with a single stroke. At first, he refused his duty. He saw the fear in mortal eyes, heard their pleas, and for a moment, he doubted his purpose. But then it happened.
A king, believing himself immortal, defied the will of the gods. He built a city of gold and had his priests perform rituals to grant him eternal life. Centuries passed, and he did not age. But in time, his skin began to crack, his eyes turned hollow, and his heart beat only from sheer terror of being forgotten. He was trapped in his own decaying body an existence without end, without release.
The gods looked down and sent Morgrath to restore balance. With a single stroke of his scythe, he freed the king from his unnatural curse. The old ruler let out one final, relieved sigh before his soul drifted into the realm of the dead.
From that moment, Morgrath understood that his task was not a punishment but a gift. He became the guardian of the end, the companion of mortals on their final journey. He appeared to kings in their palaces and to farmers in their huts. He took warriors on the battlefield and mothers who sang their last lullabies to their children. Yet he never acted with cruelty.
For death was not a torment. It was merely the shadow that made the light of life shine brighter. And so, to this day, Morgrath wanders the world, unseen by those whose time has not yet come. But one day, everyone will see his fiery eyes and feel his cold hand upon their shoulder. Death is not the end. It is only the beginning of something new.
There was a time when death did not exist. The world was an endless wheel of life, a cycle without end. But as the gods looked upon the balance of creation, they realized that life without death was meaningless. Without mortality, there was no hope, no ambition, no value in existence. And so, they created him the first and only being to walk between worlds. His name was Morgrath, the Keeper of the End. But mortals knew him only as the Reaper.
Morgrath was neither god nor man. He was shaped from shadow and fire, his bones forged from the ashes of fallen stars. The gods bestowed upon him a blade crafted from pure darkness—a scythe that could sever the soul from its body with a single stroke. At first, he refused his duty. He saw the fear in mortal eyes, heard their pleas, and for a moment, he doubted his purpose. But then it happened.
A king, believing himself immortal, defied the will of the gods. He built a city of gold and had his priests perform rituals to grant him eternal life. Centuries passed, and he did not age. But in time, his skin began to crack, his eyes turned hollow, and his heart beat only from sheer terror of being forgotten. He was trapped in his own decaying body an existence without end, without release.
The gods looked down and sent Morgrath to restore balance. With a single stroke of his scythe, he freed the king from his unnatural curse. The old ruler let out one final, relieved sigh before his soul drifted into the realm of the dead.
From that moment, Morgrath understood that his task was not a punishment but a gift. He became the guardian of the end, the companion of mortals on their final journey. He appeared to kings in their palaces and to farmers in their huts. He took warriors on the battlefield and mothers who sang their last lullabies to their children. Yet he never acted with cruelty.
For death was not a torment. It was merely the shadow that made the light of life shine brighter. And so, to this day, Morgrath wanders the world, unseen by those whose time has not yet come. But one day, everyone will see his fiery eyes and feel his cold hand upon their shoulder. Death is not the end. It is only the beginning of something new.