There are myriad worlds out there. Hanging in Subspace as they wait for there Ragnarock. Some are insignificant, seconds old, not a thing within them. But then there are those that have existed for centuries, aging and growing with every passing generation. Most of us go through our lives without even noticing these worlds, the hundreds of lives that we have lived across thousand of dimensions simply going unseen, unfelt, as if they were never there at all.
But this world is one of convergence. The laws of our bodies and concious souls dictate that we cannot travel beyond our own dimension. However, other worlds govern different rules, and souls from these dimensions wander into this one. The gate into this world is freely open, hardly there at all. They live, free to wander in and out of these different dimensions, even though that comes at a cost. To travel through these dimensional rifts, the one you came from must be locked to you. You can never return once you have left, cursed, it seems, to wander the multiverse. All would be sound and safe, lonely yes, but never a threat. That would be so, if it wasn't for the irony of darkness. From it grotesque, disfiguring creatures from nightmares creep out into our dimension. As I said before, this is a world of convergence. Great power and easy hunting grounds draw in the beasts. This world holds power, yes, but no one here understands that that is the thing that causes them to come.
They get into your head and control you, they make you do things that can't be human. But we can do nothing as we are. Death is a fixed point across dimensions, linked to the root of the being. Unless that root is destroyed, the demons continue to come back. So we fight on the only plain the demons know- that of a sleeping world.
We don't draw them out into our own dreams like cowards, we take the journey into their own worlds, strange lairs where the unpredictable is normal, the insane just another part of the day. Here, we can't change the plain. We play by their rules and put our lives on the line because of it. And if you die their, in the hands of the darkness, there is no return to the waking world. There you stay, locked out of all worlds, stuck in purgatory. But it's a task that must be accomplished in order to keep this world safe for those who cannot protect themselves. Each town has a guardian, not through any stated law, but just because of the chosen few.
Only they can see the visiting souls of the earth and ease their pain. For the demons not only feed on the natives of this world, but those caught between it. And only they have the power to protect them from the demons. Slayers, rogues.
They stand between the edge of hundreds of dimensions. But even they weren't enough.
Because despite all that power, the responsibility hanging around their necks, only six now remain.