Götterdämmerung
The end of the gods is nigh.
Thus, do I throw this torch at Valhalla's vaulting towers.
In the time before recorded history, human civilizations that had advanced leagues beyond modern man waged war against one another, all in the name of conquest and power. As these wars drew on and casualties grew higher, the civilizations became desperate, and called upon the World itself to grant them the power to exceed their mortal limits. In modern terms, this power would be called "magic".
The humans took command of this power.
The humans lost control of this power.
The humans lost everything.
Now, eras later, civilization has been rebuilt. The modern world has come into being, and the old days have faded into the sands of time. The World is no longer a place where magic exists; its laws have changed, its nature shifted.
But...one class of relic remains. Magical artifacts, forged by the World itself and imbued with incomprehensible might. Melding with the soul of their user to endow power, these artifacts were the tool by which the ancient civilizations destroyed each other. Against the test of time, a small handful of these artifacts remain.
A pawn shop purchase that was bought on a whim. A family heirloom that has been passed down. These items do not appear to be anything special, merely antique objects. Indeed, were they tested by modern science, their age would not appear to be anything shocking. Magic no longer exists, so the weapons are nothing worth noting.
However, something has changed. By the machinations of an unknown pair of beings, the owners of these remaining artifacts have been gathered in a single town. Oblivious as to the nature of these artifacts, these humans all live in their ordinarily daily lives.
Until one day.
One day, where this pair of beings use that bygone power of "magic".
The world changes, the sky glowing in an unnatural light as all humans vanish, all humans, save for the owners of these artifacts. In this twisted world, this altered magic field, the artifacts regain their lost luster, their lost might. They once more bind themselves to the souls of their owners, they once more grant the power to shatter the world.
It is then that the pair of beings make themselves known, and inform these humans of a simple fact.
They are to fight to the death. Only one may survive, and the rest will fall without exception.
The choice is yours. Accept your death solemnly. Slaughter a path to survival. Wage war against the "Game Masters" that have dared to bring you into this situation. But, just as the choice is yours, so too is the blame.
Welcome to the boundary between sin and salvation.
Welcome to the final magic war of the world.
Welcome to the Twilight of the Gods.