Sphere 3 News

Among the other dark legends of Kemmesa, the legend of Katrina Calavera, the Ghost Bride, is particularly terrifying. Those who fear even to speak her name call her the Bone Bride. And their fear is well founded.

Once a year, when the veil separating the world of the living from the world of the dead becomes thinner than a spider's web, she emerges from the thickest fog. Her appearance is a masterpiece of macabre art: her body, with the help of whitewash and India ink, is transformed into the illusion of a perfect skeleton, crowned with a doll's face with empty eye sockets. Instead of a wedding bouquet, she holds a bunch of tiny, highly polished skulls strung on the stems of long-decayed roses. It is believed that each of them contains the soul of an innocent murdered person, whose executioner escaped retribution.

Silently gliding through the sleeping streets, she searches. And when Calavera's shadow falls on the house where the sinner hides, the skulls in the bouquet begin to emit a quiet, chilling ringing. It's a sign.

Katrina doesn't enter the house. She appears at the window. And then the killers awaken from their nightmare and begin to feel the chill of her icy breath on their skin. They hear the chorus of their victims' whispers ringing from her horrific bouquet. They see her frozen smile behind the glass and realize with absolute clarity: their crime is not forgotten. The eternal memory of the dead has finally caught up with them. And this ghostly, inexorable vengeance—the curse of an eternal reminder—is far more terrible than a swift and merciful death.

With the first rays of the sun, it dissolves like a nightmare, leaving behind only the sweet, putrid smell of withered roses and the ingrained fear in the hearts of those who hoped to escape justice.

The week in Sphere 3 promises to be bright and fruitful! Increased multipliers will help you level up your character faster, earn more gold and collect the necessary resources. Seize the moment and use the magic of rates to the fullest!

🎃28.10 — x2 experience
🎃29.10 — x2 gold
🎃31.10 — x3 experience, x3 drop, x3 gold, x3 craft

❗IMPORTANT: all rates start at 14:00 (UTC+3).

Please note that changes may occur in the schedule throughout the week, including additional multipliers. Follow the news so you don't miss anything!

We wish you brilliant victories!

Multipliers frenzy is back!✨

For some time during this day, your game will be enhanced by different rates!

Which ones and when? No one knows for sure!

During the day, you will fall under 7 different rates, replacing each other. Knock out the necessary item, level up your character, farm gold, sharpen things, insert stones and activate runes - now you can do it all in one day!

Log in to the game to find out which rates are helping you right now!💫

Why does the pain of losing loved ones dull over time, leaving behind a quiet, serene sadness? Rationalists would say we simply forget. The residents of Kemmesa, however, believe that this pain is carefully taken away by the mysterious Guardian of Pauses.

They say he embodies the very pause between inhalation and exhalation, the space between sleep and waking life. He appears as a skeleton in a perfectly pressed tailcoat and top hat. In one bony hand, he holds a cane for beating time, and in the other, a pocket watch whose hands have stopped an eternity ago.

When the longing for the departed becomes unbearable and louder than the ticking of any clock, the Guardian appears to the sufferer. He says not a word, but merely turns the key on his watch. And time stands still. In the ensuing absolute silence, the world grows thinner: a faint scent of perfume wafts through the air, the echo of long-ago laughter passes, a fleeting touch is felt.

This is not a visitation from the other world. It is a sign. A quiet, barely audible message: "Everything is alright. We are here. You must move on."

Having done his work, the Guardian of Pauses removes his top hat with a silent bow and disappears as silently as he appeared. He takes with him a sip of time, filled with pain, leaving relief in its place. He serves as a reminder that the true connection between worlds lies not in moments measured by a mechanism, but in the eternity hidden in the pauses between them.

In the far north of Kemmesa, in a small village nestled among centuries-old pine trees, lived an old woman named Maria. Everyone knew her, but few dared speak, for they feared her strange hat, which was more than just a piece of clothing, but a silent bridge to another world.

Once a year, when the moon was in a special position in the sky, Maria would appear in the village square wearing her hat. She would light the candles she carried in her fields, and at that moment, silence would fall. The light would fade, the veil of the worlds would thin, and the living could see silhouettes appearing on the log walls of barns and houses. The villagers, holding their breath, watched the recognizable images of an old man adjusting his hat, children playing with a dog, and other shadows.

The magic wasn't in the summoning, but in the subtlest piercing of the veil between worlds. Maria's hat didn't attract the dead, but merely blurred the line for a moment, allowing those on the other side to glimpse the living and reassure themselves that they were loved and remembered.

As soon as the eastern sky began to lighten, the flame on the hat flickered, heralding the end of the meeting. Maria removed her headdress, and the illusion melted like fog. The bridge collapsed. But in the souls of the people, there remained no pain, only a quiet, luminous sadness and certainty: their loved ones had not disappeared. They were merely waiting for next year to meet them again in the candlelight of the old hat.