With no more birth for the Higher Realms, the children of two centuries ago were the last of their kind. Two hundred years later, all were adults. In a world without youth, no matter how dazzling, a certain sterility existed. The progression of thoughts ushered by new generations died alongside the end of birth, and within the eyes of the feeble, gloom lingered.
Among the weak, all knew that their lines ended with them, and that their future contained no hope. As a result, they desperately cultivated, attempting the extend their mark on this world. Alas, it was no simple matter. In the past, even among the devas, not everyone could reach godhood. Half-bloods had a tiny chance, purebloods a genuine shot, but only noble blooded individuals and above could go far on the God-Road.