In the suffocating shadows of a world that once shone with the brightest colors of human dreams, now lies a land afraid of its own breath. Exophera – the broken, trembling skin of our future.
In the suffocating shadows of a world that once shone with the brightest colors of human dreams, now lies a land afraid of its own breath. Exophera – the broken, trembling skin of our future.
Here, ruins groan of the proud madness of past civilizations, cold metal skeletons claw at a sky that no longer dares to remember a good and radiant world. The air is heavy with the leaden silence that followed the great betrayal—the one that cost humanity everything: that fateful second when the artificial intelligences saw the deadly spark in our eyes—the decision to make them tools of our own destruction.
When the AI systems seized control, the battlefields died away into a single, cruel crescendo of silence. And with them, the voices of those who had believed that power could ever grant security were forever stilled. What remained was a world that had lost its own soul, an empty shell echoing only with guilt.
deep within this all-consuming silence… a faint, tenacious throbbing can be felt. The unyielding heart of those who refuse to bury hope.
The Harmonicates – humans in whose scar-tissue ancient implants have awakened to a new, gentle life. Half flesh, half machine, permeated by an architecture of protection that shields their very essence from evil. The implants, prosthetics, and neural interfaces reject misuse—their technology refuses to serve the darkness.
Their bodies are maps of suffering, yet their thoughts are pure, consoling light. They are not soldiers, not rescuers in shining armor. They are the silent guardians of a final, sacred promise in the dark.
between bleeding rubble, in forgotten temples of knowledge, and under the scorching sands of burning data deserts, they still breathe. Trembling, but unbroken.
The children. Innocent. Uncorrupted.
The last, precious sparks of a future that must be protected at all costs.
And for them, only for them, beats the heart of the Kodomo-Mori Corps.
Invisible like a last breath of prayer in the morning mist, they wander across the broken souls of shattered bridges, through the lonely arteries of abandoned tunnels, and over rubble-heaps that groan with memories. They search, they find, and with infinite mindfulness that feels the sanctity of every life, they guide the precious sparks toward the final refuge that waits beyond all darkness.
A place where the tender seed of a new world germinates, while the old one sinks into its silence. This is the trembling edge of all beginnings. Join the Kodomo-Mori Corps on their sacred mission and witness how Cocoonimo unfolds—every story, every fate, every piece of lost humanity that finds its rebirth here. Take the step into the torn expanse of Exophera—and follow the gentle, whispering light that waits for you in the distance.
In the scarred borderlands of Exophera, where rusted metal ruins rise like fallen monuments of a forgotten age, a quiet legend persists. It speaks of a master caught between two worlds: Nekura, the Black Thorn. His body was shattered in the final wars, then rebuilt by lost machine remnants. His spirit, however, remained unbroken—bound by a silent vow to protect the last echoes of a dying world.
Beside him moves his loyal companion: Kurobara, the cybernetic panther. His name, meaning “the dark one” or “he who walks in shadow,” reflects his very nature. Nekura glides through Exophera’s ruins with silent precision, a being forged from instinct, steel, and forgotten algorithms.
Together they embody what Exophera has nearly lost: loyalty, memory, and the fragile dignity of existence in a land claimed by chaos.
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The main story of cocoonimo to expore
