Archive The Timeless Observer and Twin Pillars

Drackos · Jul 1, 2021

The following information is restricted to the knowledge of five individuals: Orochimaru, Madara Uchiha, Isabella Uchiha, Susabi, and Mirabelle. It has been discovered in the Restricted Section of the Grand Library of Chungsu; information contained within the document is restricted and can only be disseminated by these five in character. The next mission is not a mission in a traditional sense, though there are rewards for those that follow this through. The following documents detail an astrological phenomenon. This document is directly related to the overarching theme of the arc, pursuing mysteries related to the Void. This document is instrumental in discovering the next mission. Without direct access to the information then your biography cannot be motivated by the information hidden in these documents.

TOP SECRET//SAR-FELLED ANGEL

SPECIAL ACTIVITIES DIVISION // BLACK ONES OPERATIONS

August 17, 525

MEMORANDUM OF SPECIAL ACCESS PROGRAM

SUBJECT: Special Operations August 14, 525 (U)

(C) A Black Ones Contingent arrived in Northwestern sector on August 14th, 525 at roughly 0500 hours. At impact site, hereby known as Ground Zero (GZ), operations team recovered target and returned it to the Restricted Section of the Grand Library of Chungsu.
(TS//SAR-FA) The target found at GZ, a meteorite, is hereby known as the FELLED ANGEL. Director of Operations (DO) initiated a Special Access Program with the same codeword at the Top Secret level. Meteorite stored in the Vault, kept under control by constant Black Ones surveillance teams.
(TS//SAR-FA) FELLED ANGEL was immediately noted by Operator 4 to radiate a mysterious, but potent, chakra signature. To humans it seemed harmless, further testing required.

TOP SECRET//SI//SAR-FELLED ANGEL

FA-01-008 OPERATIONAL DRAFT
OFFICE OF HANGURIAN SCIENTIFIC STUDIES
BLACK ONES SPECIAL FORCES
SPECIAL ACTIVITIES DIVISION

October 5, 525

(U) TABLE OF CONTENTS

(U) INTRODUCTION
(U) OPERATIONAL ACCESS
- (U) AUTHORITY
- (U) OFFICE OF HANGURIAN SCIENTIFIC STUDIES
(U) FINDINGS

TOP SECRET//SI//SAR-FELLED ANGEL

(U) INTRODUCTION

(U) BACKGROUND

(C) On August 14, 525 at roughly 0500 hours Black Ones Contingent under the Special Activities Division arrived at the Northwestern sector responding to a distressing astronomical event. The operations team recovered a meteorite at the location, hereby known as Ground Zero (GZ).

(C) Under the orders of Director Yoshinobu the astronomical phenomenon was secured in the Restricted Section of the Grand Library of Chungsu.

(TS//SAR-FA) The astronomical phenomenon, described as a comet impact initially by the Operations Squad, was determined to be a meteorite of unknown origins. Under the direction of Director Yoshinobu the Directorate of Operations and the Special Activities Division initiated a Special Access Program with the same codeword at the TOP SECRET level. The meteorite is to share the same name as the SAP it is associated with, FELLED ANGEL (FA).

(TS//SAR-FA) FELLED ANGEL was authorized to have electronic surveillance conducted on it at all times in addition to the physical security in the Restricted Section of the Grand Library.

(TS//SAR-FA) The Directorate of Operations (DO) authorized study of FA by the Hangurian Scientific Studies Association (HSS/HSSA). Specific authorization and read-in for the Special Access Program (SAP) issued on a case-by-case basis. See SECTION II (U) OPERATIONAL ACCESS. Access to FA outside of those with authorization and clearance under SPECIAL ACCESS REQUIRED (SAR) is strictly forbidden.

(S//SAR-FA) Black Ones Contingent noted FA to have a unique chakra radiation signature quite similar to that of Hangurian Ore. Further testing was required.

(S) Astronomical phenomenon has no recorded harmful effects on human or otherwise living entities. On its surface the radiation of chakra seems harmless.

(S) Clearances issued with operational access to TOP SECRET CODEWORD (TS//CW) are not issued collaterally for those in HSS/HSSA. Information contained in this report range from classified at the CONFIDENTIAL (C) level to TOP SECRET (TS).

(TS//SAR-FA) This report contains classified codeword material and is not to be disseminated to anyone without proper access and clearance.

TOP SECRET//SI//SAR-FELLED ANGEL
(U) OPERATIONAL ACCESS

(U) AUTHORITY

(U//FOUO) Immediately after the astrological phenomenon on August 14, 525 SAD considered how to appropriately store the retrieved target. DO Yoshinobu determined that only the Restricted Section of the Grand Library under Special Access Program protections would allow for HSS proper access under SAD supervision.

(TS//SI) Northwestern sector as defined refers to the outer reaches of the Hangurian Freehold’s influence, technically not within the Nation’s borders. Rather, it is a number of scattered villages in a mountainous region. Direct and covert access difficult. Special Activities Division performed clandestine operations to retrieve FA.

(S//SAR-FA) DO Yoshinobu immediately approved targeted surveillance of groups in the surrounding region, ensuring that rumors of FA were kept to a minimum. Other SAD Operations Teams were sent into the region to perform PSYOPs to control messaging within and leaving the region.

(TS//SI-ECI//SAR-FA) Knowledge of FELLED ANGEL was strictly limited at the express direction of the Daijo-Daijin. DO Yoshinobu, within the first few days, began delegating SAR-FA clearance to members of SAD and HSS to immediately begin testing on FELLED ANGEL.

(U//FOUO) The Office of Hangurian Scientific Studies (HSS) had three scientists approved for immediate access around the clock.

(TS//SI-ECI//SAR-FA) Clearance authority was retained by DO Yoshinobu in the first four days of operations. Authority to clear other persons was directly dedicated to Commander Taijin, Director of the Special Activities Division (DIRSAD). From here, regular zero-based reviews were taken to assess clearing other members of SAD or HSS for additional access to FELLED ANGEL as required.

TOP SECRET//SI//SAR-FELLED ANGEL
(U) HSS REVIEW

(U) FINDINGS

(TS//SI//SAR-FA) Findings below are complied into this review for DO Yoshinobu and DIRSAD.

ACCESS: RESTRICTED/SAR-FA
AGENT/CLEARED PERSONNEL: SAD-001, HSS-002, HSS-003, HSS-004
DATE: AUGUST 25
SUBJ: FELLED ANGEL composition analysis

(TS//SAR-FA) FELLED ANGEL, the codeword for the meteorite that struck in the Northwestern Sector of the Hangurian Freehold’s influence, radiates a potent but tainted chakra source. Understanding where the meteorite originates from is potentially key to understanding its nature; chakra, a human phenomenon, is intrinsically different from the chakra that FELLED ANGEL radiates. Below are findings to discern where in the cosmos that FELLED ANGEL could originate.

(S//SAR-FA) FELLED ANGEL COMPOSITION ANALYSIS

OXYGEN: 32%
UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE: 18%
SILICON: 16%
IRON: 13%
CALCIUM: 8%
ALUMINUM: 7%
MAGNESIUM: 3%
OTHER: 3%

(S//SAR-FA) Composition analysis strongly suggests that FELLED ANGEL is Lunar in origins. Further study required.

(S//SAR-FA) Lunar meteorite composition further suggests that FELLED ANGEL is lunar in its origins. Striking similarities between it and the composition of lunar soil and meteorites left behind over various impacts from the past century.

(S//SAR-FA) LUNAR METEORITE COMPOSITION ANALYSIS

OXYGEN: 42%
SILICON: 21%
IRON: 13%
CALCIUM: 8%
ALUMINUM: 7%
MAGNESIUM: 6%
OTHER: 3%

ACCESS: RESTRICTED/SAR-FA
AGENT/CLEARED PERSONNEL: SAD-006, HSS-003, HSS-005, HSS-002
DATE: SEPTEMBER 4
SUBJ: FELLED ANGEL human contact

(TS//SAR-FA) SAD Operational Team that had discovered FELLED ANGEL was noted to have no adverse symptoms from being in extended contact with the meteorite. FELLED ANGEL was in their possession for three hours and thirty-five minutes, with no consequences reported in debriefing.

(TS//SAR-FA) Three experiments conducted between the days of September 2 and 4; each test had a single HSS scientist remain in contact with FELLED ANGEL for extended periods of time. The first for four hours, the second for eight hours, and the third for sixteen hours.

(TS//SAR-FA) Determined to be harmless in human contact, though unclear if the chakra it radiates could be absorbed or sealed. Further experimentation required.

ACCESS: RESTRICTED/SAR-FA
AGENT/CLEARED PERSONNEL: SAD-001, HSS-002, HSS-004, HSS-005
DATE: SEPTEMBER 4
SUBJ: FELLED ANGEL contact with Fuuinjutsu

(TS//SAR-FA) Meteorite remained resistant to Fuuinjutsu, unable to seal it prevent it from radiating its chakra.

ACCESS: RESTRICTED/SAR-FA
AGENT/CLEARED PERSONNEL: SAD-001, HSS-002, HSS-004, HSS-005
DATE: SEPTEMBER 8
SUBJ: FELLED ANGEL accidental contact with golems

(TS//SAR-FA) FELLED ANGEL moved to primary storage unit after construction (see: SKY DOME). [DOCUMENT DAMAGED, INFORMATION DESTROYED]

(TS//SAR-FA) While in transit FELLED ANGEL radiated its chakra, as normal, and an unexpected phenomenon occurred that caused low-ranking earth-based golem technique, carrying the meteorite, to begin to decay. In a mere five minutes the golem was rendered powerless and collapsed back into the earth. Further tests required.

(TS//SAR-FA) Theorized that any creation borne directly of chakra is susceptible to its effects; this hypothesis seems to hold true as various types of elemental golems were taken into contact with its radioactive effects.

Drackos · Jul 19, 2021

Let me tell you a story. A story of human imperfection. One that a certain man would not share, for the burden of Knowledge is greater than the burden of Life. This man is a wretched monolithic guardian. He stands upon his throne, adorned in ornate robes, gazing into eternity. Yet that knowledge is kept hidden, a secret from the rest of the world. Is that freedom? Is that fair? The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate its contents. We live on an island of ignorance in a black sea of Infinity. You were not meant to voyage far from our island. The sciences, the scholars, the empires, and all their denizens have hitherto done naught to break down this human imperfection. At times our ships sail a little further out from our island of ignorance. But our minds remain placated at small successes, failing to see the larger picture. Some days we piece together another small, fractured, dissociated fragment of knowledge that will let us sail another meter from our island. But our ship drifts back. One day the secrets this cretin of a man, your monolithic guardian of information, will decide. And that day the dissociated pieces of knowledge will unify, opening up such terrifying vistas of reality; we shall go either mad from revelation, or flee from the deadly light of truth to a new island of ignorance.

Ten swords, nine torches, four barriers. Soon the dissociated fragments will unite, lighting the way for the great Convergence. Each step you take is done in service of a greater power. Each enemy you kill, each ally you save, each empire you fell brings our Realities closer to Convergence. Since time immemorial we have Diverged.

Can you see it? Can you see what I show you? Have you learned? Can you see from the highest of your windows looking out into the open sea as the candles sputter out. You see no city spread below, no friendly lights gleaming from remembered streets. Only the blackness of space illimitable; unimagined, vast, infinite space that is both in constant motion and stillness. They have no semblance of anything on earth; and as you stand there, looking out into cosmic endlessness, the wind blows out the candles before you. Cosmic infinity comes to you, sweeping over our island of ignorance as a demon of madness plays its viol behind you, cheering in silence as the tides swallow you whole.

Soon a barrier will break. It holds back the tides of knowledge. Her final hour is drawing near, and she accepts her destiny with open arms. Three torches soon to be lit. Six remain free in their bindings, the chains of damnation too long to be felt unless the ship strayed too far from the island of ignorance into the black sea of knowledge. Another barrier cracks; endless living feel joy in their lives. Their newfound eternity rooted in the same ignorance that blinds them to the cosmic tides enveloping them. You have yet to see the dark universe yawning; black planets roll without aim, horror unheeded without knowledge or name. You stand at the abyss unknowingly, each step drawing you further into the darkness happily taken.

Story tell you let me. You have sent nine bullets into the back of your closest friend's brain, and yet you hope you are not the murderer. Their blood dripping purple, covering your hands in stained torment. I learn, I learn, I learn.

Have you wondered if the majority of your kind ever pause to reflect upon the titanic significance of their dreams? How a dream both holds the power to obfuscate reality, and also augment it? How do we discern what is real, and what is not? Why is your reality more real than mine? You live in a world. A planet that rolls endlessly in the black abyss. Its mechanics beholden to arbitrary universal physical laws that are attempted to be discerned, their mysteries unraveled. I live in a reality where up is not up, and down is not down. Yet I learn yours infinitely faster than you could ever hope to perceive reality. Whilst the greater number of your nocturnal visions are perhaps no more than faint and fantastic reflections of your waking experiences, there is still a harrowing remainder that suggest an eternal character within your mind might vaguely glimpse Cosmic Truth. Perhaps then it is not your reality that is the truer of the two. Perhaps it is mine, the less material life, that is the Truer Existence. Could you accept this Cosmic Truth? Would your mind break? I see, I see, I see.

In your dreams your searchlight expires. The island of ignorance doused in eternal void. You can heard voices, yowls, echoes, and screeches. But above all else a gently rising insidiousness, scurrying across the surface of the water as it raided the island. Arrays of stiff bloated corpses littered the sea of infinity, resting there for minutes yet also eternities. It was a putrid sea. And yet the screams bring you joy. The horror as your fellow humans are devoured in the thousands, no...the millions. Food for the fire, fuel for the stomach. They swarm your island as if a pestilence, unencumbered by need or desire. They follow instinct, their minds quickened by Cosmic Truth. They are not Her's, but Mine.

Your dream is on the edge of fading memories. Yet it is as clear as day. A reality more real than your own. You are distinct, unreachable, frozen. Your eyes laid bare to Truth. The ocean is painted red, yet none can see. The maggots have drained the blood of the dead, staining the tranquil waters of infinity with Reality. I become, I become, I become.

You feel endless pain, but also infinite happiness. The creaking of the invisible gallows sways in the cold dead wind that permeates the island of ignorance. Black and red tides stretch across its sands. Among them are nine dead messengers, their bodies drained of blood. They attempt to call out their lovers names, but dead things make no noise. They suffer, they die, and they freeze. They were like a mirage of paper, floating above a black sea. Nothingness. Naked before the judge as a bird with broken wings soars above, looking down with horror as it realizes it failed to stop the inevitable. Its existence had eight hundred times stood before, stopping unknowingly and knowingly what was to come. But his machinations became too great, too far, too vast to stop all at once. A third barrier broken. He cries, knowing it was too late. His body lifeless on the cold marble. I rise, I rise, I rise.

Overwhelming want. Humans desire the end. They seek it out with pernicious appetite. Wars, corruption, death, destruction. Desire power, desire force. The power to compel drives even the most noble with lust and desire. A fourth barrier to break, the foot of a dragon steps to shatter the glass. A sleeping beast never wounded, its blood drained into the sea of darkness.

Gaze upon Cosmic Truth. Watch as the beasts lumber slobberingly into sight and squeeze each drop of knowledge from its victims. They step through the black doorway, tainted air outside that poisons a city with madness. The Thing cannot be described-their is no language for such abysms of shrieking and immemorial lunacy. Such eldritch contradictions of matter, force, and cosmic order upended your carefully constructed reality. They happily dance in the streets, feet puncturing holes in lungs and blood spurting out to paint their black oily skin red. They laugh, they laugh, they laugh.

...

The woman woke in her hospital bed, with glowing blue cosmic eyes wide open.

Drackos · Jul 22, 2021

"A crack in the glass," the shrouded Nefarian observed, looking into the black void with a solemn expression. "The dead no longer whisper. The flow of souls into Irkalla has fallen by almost seventy percent since I began. And the disease remains, so far, largely undetected. Some have their suspicions. Some have followed threads that She revealed. Others have gone a step further and awakened to cosmic truth. Or...at least some of it." Nefarian lowered his hood, his gaze still fixated on the black void in front of him. The wood creaked under his feet, as if the space around him was buckling under pressure. Reality was bending. No...it was being consumed.

Imeroth stood at his side, staring with him into the abyss. For the most part he was silent, simply listening to the report that Nefarian provided. "Everyone and everything serves a purpose." As he spoke a crack formed in the wood under his feet, and the entire tower shifted forward ever so slightly.

"Everyone and everything serves a purpose," Nefarian repeated, his head turning to look at the side of Imeroth's face. The master of the Voidlords continued to stare into darkness, hollow eyes comforted by the maw. Nefarian's expression remained solemn as he stared for a moment. "Death will come first, but Condition will not follow."

Nefarian turned his head back toward the gnawing chasm, looking down into infinity. Another creak, the tower whining as it was pulled closer and closer to the abyss.

The woman woke in her hospital bed, with glowing blue cosmic eyes wide open.

Two doctors stood above her, perplexed by her new eyes. The hospital had been quite silent for a while now. Incoming patients had been reduced significantly; over half of the hospital's normal capacity was freed up in the past two months. The morgues were going out of business. It was an interesting time to live in the Land of Fire. "Miss Kinrah?" Asked the doctor on the left side of the bed. They had no patients to visit. So they often lingered around Kinrah, wondering when she would wake from her coma.

Her eyes darted around the room, suspicion and concern suddenly welling up inside them. Kinrah's head flicked left to right, confused at what she saw. Not so long ago she was on an island surrounded by deep, dark, black waters. But the water was not black. It was stained red. Red with human blood. Beasts with black oily skin slobbered through the doorway of her hospital room. They danced on her corpse, their feet puncturing her lungs and filling them with thick and sticky blood. These doctors....beasts in disguise! It was the only explanation. It hadn't...no couldn't have been a dream. It was far too real. Sharp talons, dead bodies, shattering glass, and an army of monsters dancing in the streets as humans collapsed and died around them. She began breathing heavily. She had to escape. Find her husband and son. Perhaps they still lived?

The doctors, needless to say, were confused. The woman began breathing heavily, clearly panicked in the hospital bed. They watched her, suddenly concerned with her mental wellbeing. Otherwise her vital signs had been normal. She shook in the bed, convulsing, gripping the sheets, her knuckles turning white. But through it all her eyes remained a cloudy blue. "Ma'am!" The second doctor shouted, suddenly springing to action. "Help me hold her down. She's going to hurt herself." The two doctors rushed to action, and from the side of the bed used their strength to hold her arms down against it. "Nurse! Nurse!" They need to sedate her, to calm her down, and slow her heart.

These beasts! She could feel their talons sinking into the flesh of her forearms. Her body convulsed, and her eyes saw blood seeping onto the clean white sheets that she lay in. Blood. Blood.! "Let me...let me go. Please!" She shouted, pleading with her assailants. They were beasts. Monsters. Their oil seeped onto her skin, almost as if to change her themselves. Her chest compressed, and her arms stiffened as they pushed down on them. "Please!" One final attempt at freedom with words. From above they laughed, their screeches piercing her ears. Deafening laughter that relished in her pain and captivity.

"She thinks we're killing her..." One of the doctors managed, struggling as the woman's strength grew. Kinrah was no shinobi. She wasn't even particularly well built or strong. Just an average woman in her late twenties with nothing remarkable about her aside from her long black hair and tanned skin. The average appearance of someone from the Land of Fire.

"I learn! I learn! I LEARN!" She shouted now, trying to overpower their laughter. Her right hand broke free of the beasts' control, nearly breaking the doctor's arm in half as she swiped it out to the right to free her body from it. Suddenly her entire form flickered a black and purple energy, as if her very position in reality was distorting itself. Space bent around her, and both the doctors were sent flying backwards. Yet they stopped instantly in mid-air. Suddenly they were both back in their original position before trying to restrain Kinrah.

"I see....I see....I see..." She began convulsing again in her bed, both doctors terribly confused as they watched her. Kinrah's body flickered again, and suddenly she appeared behind the doctor on the left side of her bed. The opposite physician looked in horror as Kinrah ran him through with nothing but her hand, ripping his heart out from his chest and pulling it back through as it tore the right and left coronaries. Blood splattered around the room as Kinrah screamed. "I rise...I RISE....I RISE!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, throwing the doctor's body at the wall with immense strength and then leaping at the other one. With her finger nails she tore through the second's throat, kneeling on her bed as her nails dug down to the bone.

In Kinrah's mind the evil FDILmHAluKELDR were decapitated and eviscerated. Their laughter had stopped. Finally, silence. Her body flickered again as reality tore around her. In a purple burst of energy she split her body into multiple clones. They were not shadow clones. And yet they were also very, very real. Their flesh and hearts beat as normal humans would. Each with glowing blue Shinkaigan. Each Kinrah leapt out of the window of the hospital in successive fashion.

And yet the doctors still breathed, their bodies still filled with life.

Combat Mission Requirements:

The events of this post take place in Keishi, but clones of Kinrah can be found anywhere in the Land of Fire.
Your mission must be S-Rank. Unlike the last mission, which dealt with rogue shinobi this mission is far more difficult and dangerous. You are dealing with the shades of the woman named Kinrah, former patient of a hospital. She has no formal ninja training, and yet she is immensely powerful. This mission should represent high difficulty for most that engage her shade. Her parameters are as followed:
- 220 Health Points
- 2,500 Chakra
- Base movement speed of 28.
- She has incredible physical durability, able to reduce all damage done to her by 50.
- Every three turns she is capable of evading all damage, her body flickering in and out of existence as if like purple static on a television.
- You lose 5 Sanity per turn by being within mid-range of her. This stacks with Sanity loss from her Shinkaigan.
- She is a master of the Eight Inner Gates. You may engage with this at your discretion, though it should be used to some degree during the fight. She is also a wielder of the base Shinkaigan, though has none of its techniques.
- Kinrah has gone completely insane. But in her mind she is entirely normal.
This mission must take place in the Land of Fire.
You are to use lethal force against this clone.

Drackos · Jul 28, 2021

MODERATOR'S NOTE: As shinobi enter battle with Kinrah, people around the world can hear these whispers. This is knowledge heard and gained by all.

In the unending depths, the ancient one rests still dreaming.

Do I frighten you, child? Or do you gaze into the cosmic abysm with brave hearts and steeled souls? When the Reckoning comes, will you look upon the infinite with your finite minds? Perhaps you should be frightened, young ones.

Look around you...

The tides of black water grow restless. Once tranquil rivers shift. Soon the waves will crest, soon they will wash over your island of ignorance. Soon they will cascade over the black stone walls. I slumber beneath the waves, my body coiled around her motherly form.

For at the bottom of the ocean, even life must die.

There is no sharp distinction between the real and unreal. There is only the Dream. Underneath the tides I coil, dreaming. Beneath the sea walk only mad things. Do you dream to escape the horrors of reality? Or do you wake to escape the horrors of the dream?

The son of a god rests in Irkalla. His soul tormented, written in the stars. His throat cut to the bone, blood seeping into the ocean. He dreams among dead things. The sprawling bastion laid to waste, torched and set to the sword. Dead things danced to the east.

Her ambitions are an endless crater. Her mind set upon learning the infinite. She will not reach it, but I have filled her heart. Her hour will come when the crown falls from her head, and life is given to death.

The Mage King walks alone, his all-seeing eyes lighting the way. He is blind to the terrors below.

The Void feasts on your soul at the edge of the abyss. It is content to do so slowly. Patiently. All things have souls. And all souls can be devoured.

I had the dream again. A black serpent with eight eyes gazing back at you. It watches from the outside, yet lives within. The fish know the secrets. They know the cold, they know the dark. Beneath the sea, only mad things walk.

My roots grow deep, they grow far. Its truck grows strong, and its branches wide. Soon it will anchor your reality to mine. Its surface will blaze bright, masking shadows below.

One cannot be sure that the sea and ground were horizontal. The geometry of my reality is all wrong. Or it is all right. What endless wisdom and magnificent architectural skill did the gods employ to construct such a fine reality? Or perhaps it was all mad to begin with? The relative position of everything seems so phantasmally variable, so questionably real. One cannot be sure that the architect did not go mad when building your house.

Mad things walk among the waking, the living. They dream of their dreadfully boring normalcy. And yet their actions scream howls of blood and terror. They steal, they terrorize, and they murder. Their eyes glow blue, cosmic truth reflected in their bloodstained irides. A little doe lost in dark woods, its neck cut open. Blood spurting, it stains the grass red with the black ocean. Yet no one knows. No one sees. The doe still breathes.

The Domain of Condition strains and creaks. Yet it will not break second. Death has left this world. The King of Souls has been made a pawn. The Swordsmith will return what he lost. Soon his heart will break, and his Soul shattered. What can change the nature of a man? He stands at the cosmic abyss, gazing with dread below. The world bends, reality morphs. Soon I will become you, and you will become me. The dreamer becomes the dream.

At the hour of his second death, he ushers my rise. Nine torches lit, four seals broken.

The cold currents sweep through the island. They caress even the bravest of men, making them shiver in the dark. You will all be alone, in the end. As your world collapses, your minds close, and you surrender to madness. Embrace darkness, let it swell within you. Look around you, they will all betray you. They will spill your blood, cutting your throat to the bone. Kill them quickly, before they wrap their talons around you and puncture your lungs.

Rejoice, for the end comes soon.

Drackos · Aug 2, 2021

Yes, I can feel it. The tides have begun to shift. The waters are no longer still. Soon the first tether will snap, soon my reach will expand beyond the confines of boundless infinity.

"Mother? Mother?" Imeroth asked twice, his meditation breaking in the Chamber of the Forge. There was no one else in the chamber with him, and so his words echoed lightly off the cold stone walls that surrounded him under the Sunlit Forge. He spoke to no one there, only responding to the whispers in his own mind. "Mother, is that you?" He asked again, almost pleading for another response like a child lost in the darkness.

Two torches have now been darkened, only seven to be extinguished. From my dreams I call forth, from your mind I rise.

"Yes, Mother. The Akatsuki has captured the Ichibi and Nibi. They move slowly but..." His words were interrupted again by the invading whispers. Tiamat had never spoken to him like this before; never had she been so eager to give Imeroth visions or whispers. Her voice was so ecstatic, speaking quickly in his mind. It was rare for Tiamat to speak so much at all.

To see all is to see nothing. To see nothing is to see all. You walk the path, but it will not be you that turns the key. You are but the shepherd of the blind. Soon the long circle will be completed; I have dreamt it. I have seen it. I have learned it. And I will rise from it.

Imeroth smiled, knowing that it meant they were on course. His plan was working, and they were moving forward as planned.

Soon the Mage King wil glimpse cosmic infinity. And like you he will come to know truth. The young god, the fourth child, will remain as the only bulwark humanity has. But flesh is my gift. And with it many swords have been forged. Among them three new siblings.

The Voice's smile faded away. He and Solomon were completely and perfect opposites of each other. The two were, as Tiamat phrased it, shepherds in their own right. Yet their philosophies completely differed. Solomon believed in noninterference, refusing to use his gifts to insert himself into the conflicts of humanity. Though this largely had begun to change as the Voidlords' plan started to come to fruition. As their machinations blossomed Solomon began to act on behalf of humanity, believing that Imeroth's intentions were not of this world at all. To Solomon, intervening in a war was different from intervening in something divine. If it was not of humanity, then his philosophical protests no longer played a role in his calculus. Imeroth on the other hand had no such reservations. To him restoring what was the 'natural order' was an absolute imperative. Imeroth and Solomon were always in perfect balance. Never crossing each other, and always observing and inserting themselves indirectly against each other. Solomon directed, or at least attempted to, the forces of humanity against the Master of the Voidlords. And Imeroth used his own pawns to move against Solomon, never taking a stand himself. Yet soon this balance might be disrupted, which confused Imeroth. But his confusion would not last for long, as the whispers continued unabated.

I dreamt of a veil deep beneath the sea. Shimmering depths that obscure the darkness below. The fish know the secrets. They know the cold, they know the dark. The next barriers creak and bend against the pressure. Chaos will be unleashed.

Drackos · Aug 2, 2021

The mysteries of the Void are vast and deep, young one. I can see you reading this, hearing it in the confines of your limited mind, unable to truly grasp the infinite truths that exist in the depths. Even as we speak my tendrils spread through your earth, my roots reaching to corners of the world not yet explored and depths not yet traversed. Your eyes remain closed to the edge of the abyss that you walk so close to. At this very moment death leaves your world, a truth so contradicting that reality itself will buckle under its weight. Perhaps it is best your eyes remain closed, otherwise you will scream at the limitless possibilities that the cosmos hides behind its vast infinity.

What separates your reality from mine? Why is the sky of your existence more true than mine? One cannot be so sure that the ground and sea were horizontal. The geometry of my reality could very well be more true comparatively. And yet you insist upon holding that truth as close to you as possible, without even realizing it. A truth that you take for granted, and one that might be a falsehood. The relative position of everything seems so phantasmally questionable, so variably real. One cannot be sure that the architect did not go mad when building your reality. But soon we will be bound together, and resisting my Truths will offer no solace, no respite. Soon our realities will become so inextricably intertwined that there will be no ignoring them. Soon the dream will become truth. And truth become the dream.

A single question I will pose to you: what is reality? How can you be sure you are not dreaming right at this very moment? How do you know that your perceptions are not false? If you live in a dream then it must also be held true that your world is but a tiny fraction of physical reality. Perhaps what is even more frightening is that this tiny fraction itself might not even be real. How do you know what is located on some 'fundamental' reality, rather than a construct of some higher power. When the gods forged this plane of existence, what came before it? What will come after it? And what exists parallel to it? Is it even real at all? Or was it created from some false sense of physical existence in a cosmic vacuum. What is reality? Countless philosophers, academics, scientists, and mages have pondered this question not for centuries, but millennia. It was even a question asked by the gods, their mother remaining silent on the issue. And for good reason; the puzzle that continues to provoke has driven men mad and women mad. What holds our societies together if not the idea that we exist within a real reality? What would happen if truth turned to be much darker, much more vacuous, than your people have contended in the past? What if the empires of Gold, Silver, and Bronze were built not on their merits and power, but upon a lie?

Perhaps, then, the greatest mercy is not the ability to cognize infinity, but to spin a smaller and more limited picture of cosmic truth. If you are mad, then it is a mercy. But may the gods have mercy on the one that remains sane to the very end, the one who might glimpse truth. You sail in a black sea of truth, limited to a boat that is kept afloat only by your ignorance. Like the island of ignorance, humans were once exposed to the terrifying vistas of reality that could bring down not only the most magnificent gilded empires, but also entire universes. The bliss of pure anarchy can only be attained once the lie has been broken. But what happens when your boat fills with water and the depths take you? The order that the gods erected was never met to be diverted from. The boat you sail on was never met to voyage far, its sails only intended to exist within the confines of your limited mind.

Why is the love you kiss in your dreams, or the food you feast on for dinner, more real than the souls I feast on in the infinite void?

Drackos · Sep 6, 2021

IM

The battle rages. I can feel it above, the shifting tides. Soon I will consume the Land of the Dead. The rotten one's endless ambitions, a mind set upon learning the infinite. She has not reached it, and yet her hour draws near. RC4 The universe wails at my presence, my ever mighty presence as it grows beneath the infernal black palace.

Reality is a fine tapestry. Only the powerful write upon it.

I write your name. Your name is EIR'RAKATH, GOD OF WAR. You embody the physical valor and strength necessary to claim victory in war. The personification of bloodlust, destruction, and war dominant. Where war is, your home follows. You shatter the immovable defense and bring the unstoppable offense. With this I write upon the tapestry.

I write your name. Your name is XAR'SUTHOTH, GOD OF THE HEAVENS. You embody youth, beauty, and authority over the greater elemental powers and the heavens. The personification of creation. innocence, and sincerity. Your essence knows no bounds and, in times of war, your wrath follows suit. With this I write upon the tapestry.

I write your name. Your name is YOL'DAOLOTH, GOD OF WISDOM. You embody knowledge, arcana, and preparation. The personification of patience, cunning, and scholarship. Where seekers of knowledge go, you follow. With this I write upon the tapestry.

This is their CORONATION. They are Eir'Rakath, Xar'Suthoth, and Yol'Daoloth; a new generation of gods to rule my UNIVERSE. For this I will soon write upon the tapestry, my scrawls overwriting the gods of old. It will happen thus. You are siblings, though your fourth escapes me and my endless reach. In this cold abyss, this frigid solemn world, I am your god. And you will become the gods of many. My will writes you into existence, but it will be your will that proves that existence.

Out in the world I ask a simple question: what proves your reality in comparison to mine? Why do you exist in TRUTH but I exist in a LIE. I challenge you, oh humans. Prove your existence. The laws of the old gods are fading and the physics of your world failing. I have seen it. I can feel it. The Domain of Death shatters soon, followed by the Domain of the Soul.

Time is running out.

SL

Drackos · Sep 8, 2021

Somewhen in both the past and future.

I'm back again. I've been here before, having come intentionally. But this time is different. This time it is not of my free will. I look around, seeing only familiar darkness.

But there was no point trying to discern where...or when...I am. The darkness stretches in all directions; into the past, into the present, and into the future. It would likely be more appropriate to describe where everything else is, rather than when I am. As everything is both simultaneously here and not here. But as I attempt to gather evidence for my chronological point in space I remind myself of Nefarian, who had likened it to trying to count all the crystals of a snowflake melting in the palm of your hand. The very act of examination changed the result, and often the evidence disappeared before it could be taken into account.

Instead, I focus on my own memory. I was meditating, as I do, deep within the Sunlit Forge. The flames, once balanced between black and white, have turned black. Their once gentle dance ended, subsumed by the black flame into a roaring pyre. And then Nothing.

I am the Voice, yet I cannot speak. This darkness is worse than the paralysis of silence. It is like grasping tendrils of dark reaching out to me, pulling me beneath Her waters. I try to scream, but only deafening silence is created. Something terrible is going to happen. I can feel it like a yawning chasm forming in the pits of my stomach. Have I been deceived?

I ponder for a moment in the darkness. Impossible. Mother has taught unwavering faith. And I have seen it. I have seen the tidal waves of her waters bathe over humanity, reclaiming what is rightfully Hers. My precognitive abilities cannot be deceived, unlike others.

And yet...this pit. This abyss. Something is off. Something has changed. Here I cannot feel Her presence. I look up, and see only darkness. I look to the flanks, and see only darkness. And yet when I look down, I can see my hands. They were as they were - as a youth. When I still was a Priest of Justice. Has Mother recalled me for a vision, to receive her Voice? But I hear no words, no whispers even. But I can feel eyes. Four sets of eyes, all of uneven number. They watch me carefully, as if I am some alien to them. A relic of the past yet still holding some use.

But where is She? I call out again, like a child looking for his mother. And yet no sound comes from my mouth. I am still stranded in this deafening silent abyss.

I am still waiting for something to happen. Someone, somewhen, to reach out to me. My heart feels heavy, hanging in silence above this chasm. Suspended and weightless, but so heavy in my heart. My child's voice, quiet and easily lost in the harrowing winds of Nothingness. I try and shout again, but I am not heard.

And then She blinks into existence. As if an image flashed onto a screen. One moment She was not there, the next She is. All is well. The Primordial Mother still sleeps, still dreams.

My meditation is broken and I return to the Sunlit Forge, eyes blinking twice as if checking I was truly in reality. Beside me is Basel, a rare stoic expression across his face. "Were you there again?" He asked, an unusual calm seeped into his generally energetic and borderline sadistic tone.

"Yes," I said, standing up from the cold stone floor beneath me. My eyes peer to the flames lining the room. The black flames were still there. Dominant. They danced angrily. Why did I still feel so uneasy? Was my vision genuine? Or had it been curated by some other?

Basel could sense my unease and hesitation. Though he did not comment. "You look pale," He paused. "Paler than normal."

I looked down again. My hands were once again decrepit. I was old. Though age had never bothered me before. Every time I emerged from the Void I felt like I was a young adult again, hearing Her word for the first time in the heart of the Golden Kingdom. Alive.

October 24th, 813

Spider,

When I first approached to enlist you, I was reticent. It had been so long since I had placed my faith in others to do what was necessary. But you were honest. A man with a price, you said. And since then you have been a faithful ally, without my asking. As long as you were paid fair compensation.

I am now asking. Phetra's invasion of Tobusekai ushers in a new and dangerous phase to this game. A game played between immortals and seers, the lives of innocents being held as nothing but pawns. And with it the revelations of Divinity that had once been kept as a closely guarded secret. We must seize at this opportunity before it is too late. If the Queen of the Dead has sent her expeditionary force to invade the East, then we must invade the throne which she calls home. If we do not I fear the Collapse will become inevitable. Spider - our enemies' agendas advance quickly, and we are losing. I have seen it.

If we are to survive the coming onslaught then we must arm ourselves with tools long lost to humanity. Tools that only you and I to this point have known existed, but have remained hidden for thousands of years. The God-Slaying Tools. A cosmic equalizer.

An assault force set upon the Underworld could lead us to finding Marzan, the legendary blacksmith. But the enemies we call Voidlords and Necromancers will not surrender him willingly even if they cannot kill him. Only Marzan can open his Armory. Without him we are doomed.

But such an expedition is a gambit. Do I walk into the lion's jaws? I have not seen the fate of this expedition, for my eyes cannot glimpse the full nature of the Divine. But I see a yawning abyss. And it disturbs me. Our enemies know we must claim the God-Slaying Tools. That it is our only hope.

I must see more, old friend. My eyes are too limited. God has reached out to me once, but has remained silent ever since. I must find Revelation and connect with the powers that are much older than you and I. We can win, Spider, if we wield these tools correctly. I will see this through.

Guide and supply them. I will provide the wears, the transponders, the devices. Relics of an ancient time crafted through mystics long lost. Merlin has found the gateway. He will lead them there. They will battle the forces of Phetra's darkness and, in time, hopefully usurp the usurper and restore balance.

Be my bridge, Spider. They must never know.

Drackos · Oct 5, 2021

Aftermath

Only three figures stood in the innermost chamber of the Sunlit Forge, two short of their typical five. There they stood in a perfect circle, all looking to one man: their master. That man, Imeroth, kept a watchful eye on each of them. Despite the events of the past three weeks, he was not distressed. Quite the contrary, his expression only revealed a calm demeanor, a man ever-confident in his plan. “Phetra’s part was played to perfection. It has positioned us perfectly. To date, one of the four Domains has shattered. The physical laws that bind this reality weaken and strain under the fluctuations in death. Nearly three of nine Tailed Beasts have been captured and Akatsuki’s ranks begin to swell.” Imeroth spoke as if reciting from a checklist; though this checklist was for the end of all things as they knew it.

“Everyone has a role to play,” said Nefarian, shrouded under his typical grey cloak. “What of the voice from the Void?”

But beneath the calm and calculated exterior that Imeroth displayed to the world was a strange combination of emotions: curiosity and concern. “Our understanding of the Void will never be complete,” Imeroth admits. “It is a conflux of universes, the ultimate atavistic truth. Humans and gods alike cannot grasp infinity. Perhaps there are other beings in the Void that whisper to us in the darkness. Other cosmic entities that yearn for release. But the endstate of the universe is ours to determine through our Mother. This has not changed.” Imeroth’s voice was firm but beneath it remained that same concerned anxiety. Was he informing Nefarian or only trying to convince himself of his own words? Basel stood with a smug expression as he watched his master speak.

“Our Uchiha friend will come find me to complete his metamorphosis,” said Nefarian.

“It has been written in the stars. He will realize his choices have not been his own,” Imeroth replied, his face now smug as their great scheme began to bear fruit. “Madara will likely see his indecision as a failure. But it had been ordained long ago. Humanity might have found the God-Slaying Tools, but it has come at great cost. Just as their victory with Phetra did. With those tools in hand they will hunt you, Nefarian.”

Nefarian shuffled as he spoke. “They will. It is my role to play, my destiny,” Nefarian affirmed with a quiet and happy thrill, because it felt good to speak the truth. “The absence of death strains the ordered cosmic balance. It will not last much longer.”

“The only obstacle that remains is Enkidu. Solomon has gone to great lengths to indoctrinate him. He has become a staunch defender of the ordered ways and, as I saw against Phetra, quite powerful. Nefarian’s Divinity will prevent the boy from curing the Prismatic Plague, but it cannot stop him from further interference in the fourth phase of our grand design.”

Basel’s expression morphed from smug enjoyment to isomorphic anger. “I will kill him. I will rip him to shreds,” said Basel, eyes of gold flared in vicious determination.

“Yes, I’m sure you will. Your powers will be quite difficult for the boy to manage. Nefarian will be the bridge to the final phase of our scheme. But you will seal their fate,” Imeroth paused. “The last issue we must discuss: the far west.”

“The Outer Lands,” said Nefarian.

“A blight on the world and its disciples will lead them across the ocean to rediscover ancient secrets.”

Drackos · Oct 5, 2021

GLD.AMP//MEMORY LOG//U:MARA-01/SHALEWOOD

The toxic sea of the Hokubu crashes against the passive sandy shores of Shalewood. Winds whip with hurricane force as the Goddess of Life takes each massive step toward the Mainland. A freezing spray of wind and Sea of Life lash across the mainland, corrupting thousands and sending the world into disarray. Human, and many inhuman, screams echo out into the impossible seas as Void clashed with reality, and primordial life once again stepped out into the cosmos.

Two dozen abominations crawled from the infected waters, their jaws lined with sharp teeth as they pounced on the humans fleeing from the terrible scene. They scurry across every surface, spreading Her liquid domain across the world. They were like moths drawn to a flame, ravenously pursuing every form of life they could. Mara and Reed stand against them, shoulder to shoulder with their fellow villagers and suited in armor as they rushed forward. In her hands is a sword and she screams as she cleaves through the masses of chitin and chittering death.

Blood splattered and rained around her, pitter pattering on her armor. But as each wave of warped life was cut down, another made its way from the ocean to take the last’s place. It was like fighting the tides themselves as they inched closer and closer to their home. To where Talia was. The realization fuels the inferno burning within her as rage powers her swings. Each time she feels her rusted sword sweep through another abomination's flesh she cries out, cursing the world for such a disaster. Finally, after what could only be hours, the corrupted sealife recedes. They had held them back. But when a towering monolithic monster rises from the waters to watch them she realizes a grave truth: this was not a victory, but an escalation.

She takes a half-step backwards, knowing that this could be their final stand. Her rusted and worn sword ignites in a howling golden flame, heat rippling outwards toward the monstrosity. It knows that she intends to make a final stand. A last ditch effort against the unrelenting waves. It raises its own reinforced chitinous arm, a makeshift weapon for a battle against civilization. They clash and her blade shatters it in a single blow; her strength outmatched the monster’s. The blade is withdrawn and followed up with a swift follow-through to cleave through the monster’s torso and through his chest. He falls backwards into the ocean.

Mara turns to Reed, but he is nowhere to be found. She can feel her flame ebbing, knowing that if more waves are to come then she will be overwhelmed. But where is Reed, her companion? They were all that stood between these demons and her little sister. She can only manage hope that he died. Death against these things is preferable to what would come after. And then, she saw it. The man, the monster, the humanoid abomination rises again from the ocean. But she had just killed him. How could this be? Her chest tightens as panic grips her, mind reeling. Had she missed? Had the killing stroke been a product of her imagination? Her flaming sword drips with no blood, but her armor is covered in black.

Mara screamed again, rage gripping her mind as panic flooded her body. She knew what this meant. She had seen it already. This sea rebirths these monsters. They can’t be killed, at least not permanently. The man charges at her, thrusting his corruption covered armored arm at her as she rolls away. She musters more of her energy to let loose the flame that adorns her sword, a maelstrom of inferno engulfing the man.

But the man emerges from the flames, his chitin unscathed, and leaps at Mara. This time she drives the sword through his face as he does so, the sound of bone and chitin cracking and shattering as the jagged metal punches through his skull. Blood spatters downward. She had landed a killing blow.

“Mara?” A voice in the darkness. Storm clouds above send lightning through the sky. Shalewood illuminates in a brilliant yellow light. “Mara?”

Mara turns to see one of the thrall from earlier behind her, speaking in a human voice. Had they learned? Are they developing? She twists and withdraws her blade from the man’s head, moving to slay the small beast. But as she does she notices the man begin to reform, his head healing to its original state.

She lunges forward again, this time focusing the last of her Flame into the tip of the blade to create a surge of power. “I’ll kill you!” She cries, howling into the wind.

But before she could attack she is grappled from behind, the small common speaking thrall grabbing at her to pull her back. “No! STOP! MY SISTER!” Mara screams, fighting against its pull.

“Mara!” The Thrall replies, pulling her to the ground.

Drackos · Oct 5, 2021

GLD.AMP//MEMORY LOG//U:REED-01/SHALEWOOD

“Come on, up you go,” said Talia as she pushed crates of food to the upper levels of the barn. A fresh shipment from Tsumigakure. Their generosity after the war was invaluable. The Hokubu was too corrupted now to fish from. And it seemed that the ecosystem would not recover anytime soon.

“Thanks miss,” says a young boy by her side, smiling up at her. He was no older than ten years, but he suffered so much. They all had. The village had seen cosmic horror as the Hokubu was transformed from a peaceful northern ocean into a toxic pit of hell. And within it countless monsters and beasts that were no longer native to human experience. They were, in effect, alien. Strange. Mysterious.

“No problem. Get back to your mom now. We need to make sure everyone is on guard after the attack last week,” Talia replied with a protective tone.

“Talia, have you seen Mara?” Asks Reed, his burlesque figure hidden behind a row of straw bales against the barn.

“No. I haven’t. She’s probably off training again,” Talia replies from inside the barn, brushing dirt and hay from her hands. “Let’s go find her-”

“THIS DAMNED OCEAN!” It was Mara’s voice, a shriek that caused the birds to lift in flight from the grey trees of Shalewood in fear. A tightness formed in Reed’s throat while panic welled in his gut. He sprinted past the hay bales, nearly tripping as he did. Talia spurred into action in close pursuit, running out of the barn after him.

When the pair reaches the source of the noise they see Mara coated in blood, blade drawn. Beneath her was a wounded villager. A man no older than 25. Talia recognized him; before the war he had been a farmer. But the tides had welled up and consumed his crops. Now he subsisted, living on whatever scant food the village could provide. His body was frail from malnutrition. Along his arm was a deep gash, a strike from the sword.

Mara takes a half-step backwards. Fear grips her expression, her eyes wide as adrenaline courses through her. The man lifts his arm in self-defense, hoping, no praying, that she would miss in her fury. But her blade strikes true, cleanly slicing through his arm as more blood sprays from his body. His head falls backwards. She withdraws the blade and follows up with a clean cut through his defenseless torso and chest, killing him nearly instantly.

Mara turns, looking at Reed directly. But her eyes see nothing, as if she is looking straight through him.

“Mara?” Talia asks, concern and panic bursting inside her as tears welled in her eyes. “Mara?” She asks again.
The man is motionless. “I’ll kill you!” She cries, screaming at the corpse of the innocent villager. But by now Reed has already taken action, tackling Mara by her waist, wrapping his hands around her to pull her away from the body. “No! STOP! MY SISTER!” She screams, struggling against his strength.

“Mara!” Talia screams again, running to her elder sister as she and Reed tumbled to the ground.

Drackos · Oct 7, 2021

GLD.AMP//MEMORY LOG//U:MARA-02/SHALEWOOD

Guilt and shame twisted in Mara’s stomach. She felt sick as she sat underneath a canopy of dead, grey trees on the outskirts of her Shalewood village. Her focus was squarely locked on the dirt beneath her feet. Mara could hear herself breathing uncomfortably loud as she sat there, her eyes not wandering from the dry soot around her feet.

“How’s it feeling today?”

All Mara can hear is the sound of her own breathing. She is slouched over her knees, hands shaking on them. Her mind was fixated on the past. Her now bloody past.

“You can talk to me,” says Talia, Mara’s younger sister.

Mara audibly swallows as feelings of guilt twist in her gut. She wanted to vomit. She felt worthless.

“I know,” she manages, her mind hazy as she is forced back into the present. But her response is delayed. Slow. Talia notices. “I will soon. I promise,” says Mara. She knew that Talia cared very deeply. But she couldn’t bring herself to speak about the incident. She was a killer now. No better than the monsters that emerged from the Hokubu that fateful day. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Talia says, wrapping her arms around Mara’s shoulders to embrace her. The intimate contact with her sister grounds her back in the present, providing some form of comfort. “We’ve all been through so much. You’re...you’re not the first,” she says. Mara was not the first to suffer from an episodic attack.

But that knowledge does not serve to comfort Mara. She only sinks further into her knees as she slouches over the grey dirt. It only made her feel smaller, guiltier. She was now one of many, only serving to build on a problem rather than work toward a solution.

“I’m scared,” Mara admits, a single tear streaming down from her left eye.

“It’s okay to be afraid. We all are,” her sister says, tightening her embrace.

“It was that day. On the shoreline,” Mara finally says, the first meaningful thing she has said to her sister in weeks. She was afraid of that truth. Afraid that it might come back as reality. Afraid that her delusions might take another life in the village. Was she a monster? “I was...I was back on the shore. Sword in hand. They just kept coming. And there was this man who emerged from the ocean. No matter how many times I killed him, he kept coming back. I should’ve died out there.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“But you didn’t. And you saved so many. You were so brave,” Talia replies. But Mara didn’t feel brave. She felt small.

“My sword was on fire.”

Drackos · Oct 13, 2021

Malicious Revelations
Location: CLASSIFIED
The events of Malicious Revelations appear as a vision to those who currently wield a basic Shinkaigan.

“Indescript location. A good hideout to conduct your experiments,” the Uchiha commented.

The tunnel was dark. The sound of nature above was muffled by thick layers of earth that concealed the complex fortress system that spanned the Land of Fire. Pillars of oxidized metal held up the world, like Atlas in his eternal struggle. Though some had collapsed, caving in parts of the system. “I do enjoy peace and quiet,” the second man replied, standing ten meters from the Uchiha. He was shrouded in grey. “How did you find me?”

The glint of the Uchiha’s Sharingan was unmistakable in the darkness. Blood red eyes locked with the grey shrouded stranger as they stood in the tunnel, staring each other down. The tension in the air was heavy. “It was easy. You haven’t transcended completely. I can feel your soul as clear as day. No one is quite as sadistic as you are, and it left a mark.” There was no malice in his voice. He said it matter-of-factly, an honest assessment.

“Why are you here?” The grey man asked, his shroud concealing his face.

“Answers breed questions and questions breed answers. Realizations. You once told me everyone has a purpose. Do you still hold this to be true?” Asked the Uchiha.

“Everyone has a purpose,” the grey-hooded man reaffirmed, “even myself.”

The Uchiha’s mind thought back to the boy and his words. The boy was the sacrifice of this age, just as he was the sacrifice of his. “I sacrificed myself for my people to build a better world. To upend the ordered way. That is my purpose.”

But the grey-cloaked man only laughed, his voice echoing through the decrepit halls of the tunnel system. “A product of your time, yes. But an artificial one.”

The Uchiha’s eyes widened, the Sharingan transitioning from its Three Tomoe base into the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan. His mind raced back centuries to the great massacres of 581 and the Senju-Uchiha War that followed.

“You’ve realized it, haven’t you? Your mind is sharp, even though your soul is hollow.”

The Hagoromo Clan had been wiped out, exterminated. The Freehold was placed into legislative deadlock in the wake of the attack. A young Sai Uchiha mounted the assault that triggered a war between Uchiha and Senju. But it had all been fought over resource scarcity.

“You’re a sharp one, aren’t you?” The cloaked man asked, clearly enjoying himself.

“Then that day….at the Hagoromo….” He paused, hands brushing along his eye sockets.

“...were never truly the natural evolution of an Uchiha to begin with,” the cloaked man completed his thought.

“Then the entire war was...you got to it,” the Uchiha whispered in shock, his epiphany complete.

“Yes. You had wished for salvation. An end to conflict and tyranny. We engineered the Three Calamities to bring about the end of the inheritors of the Golden Empire. You were blinded by emotion, like your relatives. It never occurred to you, not even once, that the Senju’s attack on the Hagoromo may had been a tad bit extreme. You accepted it wholeheartedly, as we had predicted. The ensuing bloodshed was spectacular. And it ultimately crippled the Freehold’s military might, sealing their demise in the following two hundred years. And you, Sai Uchiha, became our champion.” The man lowered his hood, revealing his black eyes and ancient elven ears.

His fist glimmered and quaked with a familiar power. Anger surged through him. He only had to release his grip, and that energy would tear through the cloaked man, burning him without searing his flesh. “Is that why you had sent me to kill Enkidu?” The Uchiha asked in a shaky, gasping breath fueled by adrenaline.

“To complete your metamorphosis,” replied the man, a smug smile across his face.

“And what metamorphosis might that be?”

“A metamorphosis of the mind. An understanding. Cosmic imbalance brought to bear. Your existence was predicated on a lie. The Great Senju-Uchiha War was fought for nothing. Allow me a single question before you shred my existence limb from limb,” the elven man said, still smiling. “Takauji Ashikaga. When he underwent his metamorphosis and was killed multiple times by the shinobi of Tsumigakure...what happened to his soul?”

The Uchiha said nothing. Tension filled the air. At any moment he could unleash his unbridled fury.

“He was rebirthed from the Sea of Life, yes. But his soul. Did those clones possess a soul? What is the paradox behind the Paradoxical Rebirth? Can the Sea of Life create a novel soul? Does the soul of the original body transfer itself into the new body?”

Harrowing silence.

“Yes, it is just as you suspect. Your body, even during the war, was mutated by the Sea of Life. Did you truly believe you were special? That you ascended your Sharingan into its Eternal state without external help? You have no brothers or sisters within direct kin. When the Black Ones came to assassinate you they killed your original form, that of Sai Uchiha. The body, no the shell, of the man you are now - you are nothing more than an empty vessel. A body shaped from clay born to be manipulated. You are soulless, King of Souls. Your decisions have never been your own, manipulated from the earliest days of your life. Are you truly even Sai Uchiha? Is how you arrived here, standing in this dark military tunnel complex, of your own design? Can a soulless man have free will?” His laughter subsided, all that remained was dark venomous words to catalyze a malicious revelation.

“ENOUGH!” He shouted, his fist shining bright as he unleashed a maelstrom of cyan flames to engulf the man. Blood dripped from his Eternal eyes as his body shook.

The man screamed as his form was engulfed, falling backwards onto the cold, dry earth beneath him. The tunnels shook. Blue flames rippled across his body as they ravenously consumed him.

“Perhaps I do lack my soul. Maybe I am not the original Sai Uchiha, living as a shell of his former self. A reproduced unit formed from remnants of the Sea of Life. But my sacrifices...they were always mine. And I won’t let you invalidate them,” he stood triumphant over the cyan-smoldering remains of the elven man.

“Haha...hahahahaha!” The laughter came from behind him, the Uchiha’s eyes widening in surprise. Why hadn’t his attack worked?

“Green,” the elven man whispered from behind.

Suddenly the Uchiha hunched over coughing once, blood spurted from his mouth onto the ground and then into his hand. He turned slightly, eyes meeting the elven man in front of him as he reappeared in perfect condition. In front of the Uchiha the body he had ignited was nowhere to be seen. A genjutsu?

“Right now you’re asking a simple question - had I cast a Genjutsu on you? The answer is so painfully obvious. No. What fool would fool an Uchiha with eyes like yours. But then what? Your Soul Fire is magnificent, burning away the soul. Even Divinities like Phetra would be vulnerable to it. Cast your eyes upon my Divinity! Understand that as I am I lack a soul entirely! My chrysalis was is Divine Spirituality, the ultimate transformation done through Ereshkigal’s Divinity! Your flame cannot burn me, just as fire cannot burn water. Behold!” The man cast his arms to either flank, radiating silver light. “Red.”

As he spoke his color the Uchiha collapsed to the ground, coughing violently as he clutched at his chest.

“You are still burdened by your physicality. A tragic limitation.”

The Uchiha coughed again, hacking up another globule of blood that splattered along the cavernous floor.

“You have a magnificent anatomy, crafted from the finest clay. Yet, just like all humans, you are vulnerable to disease,” in the man’s hand a green orb of energy manifested, dancing as dark green light in the dank cavern. “You hold power over the soul. A potent skill, but rendered ineffective against my Divinity. I hold power over the human condition, a derivative power stolen from the Underworld. Humanity is my vector. Virulence is my modus operandi. I am Nefarian, Voidlord and God of Disease,” he knelt beside the Uchiha’s crumpled body, writhing in agony as a variety of diseases coursed through his form. He tipped his hand over, letting the dark green glowing orb fall into his body, phasing through it.

“You might arrogantly believe that the Prismatic Plague I designed will keep your form alive. And you would be right. I am confident that Enkidu cannot stop it. Millions of humans will go on living, defying death that was cosmically arranged thousands of years ago. The deaths that the Twin Fates wrote into reality will not come to pass and, in time, the Domain of Condition will shatter. But here, the Soul will shatter. Here the reality of a soulless man will bring to bear cosmic imbalance. Fight it as you might, but I have no soul. You are rendered utterly impotent before my might. Feel the disease course through your form. It will eat away at your body as thousands of viruses consume you at a cellular level.”

Blood seeped from the Uchiha’s eyes, he groaned in pain. The man, once Sai Uchiha, could feel the void in his soul as the Divine disease consumed him, eating at his body.

“It is a shame that you lost your sword, Demetrias. You will die here, under this crumbling rubble.”

A hollow peace might have gripped the world in the aftermath of the Irkallan raid. But reality couldn’t be further from this perception; the Domain of Condition and the Soul strained under the weight of these revelations. It wouldn’t be long before they shattered, bringing Imeroth one step closer to unleashing the Void upon the world.

Drackos · Nov 10, 2021

GLD.AMP//MEMORY LOG//U:MARA-03/THORIAN

“Reed, you okay?” Asked Mara, looking over her shoulder at Reed; a confident smile spread along her face as she did, his fists glowing with a now-familiar power. Black blood stained them, but made no contact with his skin itself as he withdrew his fist from the skull of a fallen Child of Tiamat. Half of the skull had caved in from the pressure that Reed’s fists exerted on it, fragments of bone impacting its brain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Better than fine in fact,” Reed replied, aiming his fist away from the trio toward the toxified Hokubu Ocean. The glowing Chakra on his fists launched itself like a rocket outward, taking the black blood with it. A necessary precaution against the Children of Tiamat.

The three were children of war now, veterans in a struggle to protect humanity from what was uniquely inhuman. Tiamat was gone but the toxic sea that was once the Hokubu remained, a lasting product of her broken Authority. A full year had passed since they met and trained with Solomon, the man who taught them how to protect not only themselves but their friends, families, and most importantly: humanity. Reed became a warrior, a specialist of close quarters combat. Talia became an expert in the Sealing Arts. Mara became a specialist in Fire Release.

The beaches of Thorian were littered with corpses. Another wave of monstrosities emerged from the Hokubu to try to push inland. “We’ve reached a stalemate with them,” it was Talia’s turn to speak, standing close behind Mara with a grey scroll in her left hand, in it containing multiple corpses of Children of Tiamat. Her hair was matted with sweat and sand. “We can kill them all we want, but unless we destroy their source then there’s no point. They gain no ground but we can’t break them either to stop these assaults. They’ll keep coming until the Hokubu is devoid of life to transform entirely.”

The three stayed silent for a moment, contemplating the hard truth that Mara’s younger sister just uttered. “Our crusade has only just begun,” started Mara, breaking the silence. A comforting smile on her face appeared as she wiped strands of red hair from her eyes. “We’ve come far since we were just three peasants living off the land. War occurs in phases. We’ll find whoever is creating these monstrosities and end them, not for us but for humanity,” she reaffirmed their convictions, displaying for Reed and Talia just how far she had come from being a young woman suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. Her training had steeled her soul and mind and transformed her from a farm girl into a full blown warrior for humanity. Talia nodded in response, happy to see that her sister felt strong and resolute. “But we do need to break this stalemate,” she nodded in agreement.

“Then we must go East,” Reed suggested, practically whispering it under his breath as he pointed across the toxic Hokubu. “Tobusekai is a land of many mysteries. We know that the villages along their northern coast have been dealing with the same problems we have. Maybe they’ve found their own solution to warding off the attacks.”

His suggestion made complete sense. But Talia was concerned about enemy advances in their absence. “If we go, someone needs to stay behind to rally the few we’ve recruited and keep up the war effort while we’re gone. At least to maintain the stalemate.” They each looked at each other, wondering who should volunteer.

Talia raised her hand. “I’ll stay. I’m the best outfitted for long and attritional combat anyway.” And so it was. Mara and Reed left, heading southward to find a ship to carry them across the Kaizoku.

Drackos · Dec 6, 2021

Flashpoint
All information is public knowledge.

Captain Niashin drags the young man by his leg, his immense strength pulling him along the dirt road on his back away from the granary. “All units report in,” Genso Niashin leaned his head to the left, speaking into a small microphone on his armored leather vest. “Do you regret your actions?” He asked the man, pulling him by only his leg. He had been incapacitated, left unconscious, and the captain was speaking only to himself. Before him was the village’s square. The townsfolk gathered in its center, looking toward Captain Niashin with worried expressions. “You have gathered before me, hungry and terrified. Death has left the world. Madara Uchiha has abandoned you, left to march his criminal organization toward some twisted conquest. And you have been left to starve. While he marches and feasts, capturing mythical beasts that bare no relevance to your wellbeing, you are rabid and ravenous. Your children starve. Children of the Hangurian Empire, I will lead us into the light.” Captain Niashin tossed the granary guardsman toward the crowd, a satisfied grin across his face.

“Before you is a man who serves not you, but your masters. A granary stuffed full, yet you starve. Why? You’ve been damned to eternal starvation, sentenced by a man who does not even know your names. Turn your blades to him, kill his servants, uproot his disparate village.” Niashin pointed toward the incapacitated guardsman, and then raised his hands toward the sky. The world was theirs. Rebellions had erupted throughout the eastern region of the Land of Fire, primarily centered on what is Tanigakure’s village territory – a revolt against Madara Uchiha himself and incited by former Hangurian military constituencies. Desperate for food, living space, and better quality of life the people of Tanigakure have risen up!

Drackos · Jan 26, 2022

Breaking Point
Jarteeg, Year 815
Information marked with the (P) portion marking is public knowledge.

The bloodthirst evaporated from Nefarian’s eyes as he watched Isablela finally fall, her body riddled with disease and mutation now left lifeless on the cold and dampened cavern floor. “Your revelation came a moment too late, woman. Though I commend you for wounding me,” he left his left hand trail up from the gaping hole in his stomach, singed from the Fire Poker. He paused for a moment as he allowed the Void to surge through his anatomy, his body restoring itself in an eerie display of interweaving flesh and sinew almost as if time itself was reversing for its dreaded Voidlord master.

(Chōsoku Saisei) – Instantaneous Regeneration

Type: Supplementary
Rank: Forbidden
Range: Self
Chakra: N/A
Damage: N/A
Description: Instantaneous Regeneration refers to Nefarian’s control over his own anatomy through various pathogens and microbes designed to quickly regenerate his physical body. While impractical to use during combat he is able to instantly fully regenerate any lost Health Points and anatomy lost during battle once he is out of combat. This makes defeating him in a single battle rather than multiple protracted ones paramount.

"Let's begin, Sai Uchiha." Whatever grin that had spread across his face had long since melted away into his typical somber expression. The time had come to enact their grand design. The Prismatic Plague had spread across the Mainland and Tobusekai like wildfire. Pathogenesis was a careful balance between spreading the disease and killing its victims. Kill too quickly and the virus cannot spread to a sizable enough population. But if it spreads too well then it is likely not lethal enough, passing through them and enabling herd immunity long before it can effectively mutate into a virologic killing machine. He strode confidently toward Sai's near lifeless body, a corpse riddled with so many diseases that he clung to life only by the grace of the anatomical transformations afforded to him by Tiamat herself. "Isn't that right, Sai?" He let his boney Elven hand brush through Sai's sweat-matted black hair. He did not react, struggling to even breathe.

But what of a plague that changed its colors like a Chameleon? A plague that was able to mutate so quickly that no one, god or not, could target its genetic code and design a cure. A prismatic disease that could circumvent even the Divine powers of a god like Enkidu, who as a child was able to easily cure the second Red Fever. The Red Fever had been an invaluable intelligence operation. He possessed the knowledge; all he needed was the Divinity to create such a powerful disease. Thus, the Prismatic Plague was born. A disease so virulent it spread merely by being in proximity of one another, jumping from host to host like air passing from city to city. A disease that would preserve its host perfectly, resisting the effects of death itself. It was, effectively, a disease of immortality. A cruel twist on the fate that Marduk had issued upon the hundreds of humans who fought for him in the first Great War against Tiamat. A host could have their neck snapped, starve, be bifurcated, or even blown up in an explosion. Save being turned to ash and incinerated, nothing could kill a host with the Prismatic Plague.

The Domain of Condition that the gods set forth, especially by Nergal, was predicated on the establishment of the concept of human suffering. This suffering typically climaxed in death, as death is a constant in the world. Disease, war, famine, overpopulation - these all belonged under the authority of the Domain of Condition. The human order would correct itself by culling the excess population, ensuring that, at least to some extent, humans could provide for themselves. Yet their suffering persisted as part of the human experience.

Introduce the Prismatic Plague. A disease that effectively put a stopper in death. Since its release over half a year ago human population has skyrocketed. Children did not die in child birth. Soldiers survived fatal wounds in war and recovered. People no longer could perish from starvation, one of the greatest reapers of humanity since the dawn of the Age of Gods. Cities grew crowded, scarcity rampaged, living space shrunk; and as evident in the Land of Fire's Hidden Valley Village - war erupts. Yet rebellion cannot see its revolutionaries killed, the oppressors live through the guillotine, albeit their bodies broken. "Can you hear it? Their crying? Their suffering? Their survival? Their joy in immortality?" Although Sai could not hear their wails and joy, Nefarian could. He had an acute connection to his Domain. In the distance he could hear a mother joyous that her baby's high grade fever broke. He could hear a father cheering as his son returned home from a war in which he had his gut cut clean open. The chorus of men and women crying in the flames of rebellion at the center of the village. "Their tears will turn to sweet ash..." He raised his hands toward the sky in that dank cavern, still relishing in the sounds of their dread and joy. And then...nothing.

Silence.

Deafening silence.

...

A mother's scream. A father's wails. A dreaded symphony of horror.

"Sweet, sweet, ash." Nefarian relished, closing his eyes and arching his back in pure ecstasy. In that moment he lifted his hands to the sky the Prismatic Plague had mutated. He stroked Sai's cheek one last time before standing, looking down at the writhing Uchiha. "It's time to play your part now." With fresh Black Blood from his old wounds still dripping down his stomach and waist Nefarian drew a pentagram on Demetrias's back which immediately began glowing a dark black and red. It pulsed purple Void energies outwards as it began drawing the same souls toward the caverns of Jarteeg, each quickly pulled into Nefarian's body as the minutes passed by. It was a dreaded ritual designed to overwhelm and overwrite his own fragile and paradoxical soul with thousands of others, each forced into his body in an experience that would transform him from Sai Uchiha truly into Demetrias, Voidlord and Master of Souls. Nefarian's form transmigrated into a plume of black mist along with Demetrias, still unconscious and heavily breathing as he dematerialized.

(P) Nefarian has mutated the Prismatic Plague and ended its curse of immortality. In effect it has slain hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of humans all at once. Those who had staved off death, recovered from disease, maimed or wounded in battle...they all perished. Even the ones in good health had as long as they had been at the brink of death's door before, spared only because of the grace of the disease itself. And with their deaths the Domain of Condition shattered with it; the contradictory force of so much immortality met with so much death in an instant brought the gods' decree to a heel. But Nefarian's ploy was to kill two birds with one disease ridden stone - the demise of the Domain of the Soul. With the deaths of so many humans at a single time all of their souls now linger in a state of limbo. Souls now roam the world en masse, giving a ghastly feel to the world of humans. The problem at hand: these souls cannot pass to the Underworld having been sealed by Ereshkigal to prevent the Void from encroaching upon the world above. And yet they linger unnaturally, aimlessly. Only one Domain remains, the Domain of Desire and its infamous master: the Voidlord Basel.

Drackos · Feb 7, 2022

THUMP

The winds carried a chorus of voices. Some frightened; cries for help to find shelter from the raging storm. Some reverent, bowing before the gods in dutiful obedience and piety while they allowed their lives to be plucked like heartstrings. Some are angry, frustrated with this perpetual state of dependence. They swirled around the pulsating mass of flesh and sinew and it rested there, as it had for as long as it could remember.

I am searching. I am close; I can feel that I am close.

Its thoughts were almost whispers. Even if the island had seen mortal human life they would be inaudible. They were reverberations of an unconsciousness.

Who am I? What am I?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Beneath the raging storm the mass of flesh can feel its tendrils reach deeper. Suddenly it feels a sharp pain as another root ruptures the earth, twisting and writhing as it devours reality with ravenous appetite.

Stop.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I am anxious. Why am I anxious?

The pulsating mass has never felt this before. But it can feel it deep within its beating heart; this thing has consumed entire galaxies, unwritten truth. It is an unshakeable sense of dread. It wants to run, but it has no legs. It wants to call for help, but it has no family left. And as the malignant roots wrap themselves around the island their cancer-like nature becomes less foreign and more native. As if a body’s white blood cells could no longer recognize the foreign threat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The fall will not be quick.

Thump.

It happens over weeks and months. Cataclysmic disasters, natural and unnatural. They ravage the world like a terrible storm, flattening human settlement on every corner of the planet. Earthquakes, tidal waves, solar flares, cyclones, hurricanes, wildfires. Exotic plagues that raze entire populations. Souls barred from the afterlife.

I am dead.

Drackos · Feb 7, 2022

DRAGONKIN: PART 1

“He doesn’t talk much now, does he?” Basel asked flippantly.

“No. He is less man now than machine,” Nefarian replied, a look of satisfaction stricken across his Elven face.

“I see,” the Draconic warrior replied, taking a closer look at Demetrias as if he was inspecting him. The Uchiha made no effort to reply, move, or even return Basel’s gaze.

Within Demetrias a metaphorical storm raged. Thousands of souls competed inside his body for dominance, including his own. Each soul had been forcibly ejected from their own hosts when Nefarian’s Prismatic Plague came to its inevitable climax and conclusion before being forced into Demetrias’s body. He stood there with an empty, almost glass-like, pair of eyes fixated on the cold stone wall of the inner sanctuary of the Sunlit Forge. The vast majority of them screamed in agony, numbing his own soul to the rage within. His Domain had broken not by his own hand but forced by Nefarian’s devious machinations.

“And Imeroth?” Nefarian asked, having been away for some time now.

“He left me in charge,” Basel smugly replied.

It solicited no reaction from Nefarian who, like Demetrias though for different reasons, was unmoved by the entire situation. “Only one Domain is left standing.”

“Just one.”

There was only silence as the three stood around the black and white flames of the forge, looking down into the bottomless pit.

“And Madara?”

"His little group has collected four of the nine. Their progress has been slow but it’s expected to accelerate soon. Especially once we deliver them the reforged instruments.” Basel scratched at the Draconic scales that adorned his flesh under his grey cloak, golden eyes flaring as they met Nefarian’s black gaze.

“It was a tactical blunder on our part to trust him with Marzan’s death. I should have taken care of it personally.” Nefarian turned his head to look at Demetrias’s cold, almost dead, eyes and pale skin. Whatever they were saying now it mattered little, Demetrias could not hear it anyway. Not above the tortured agony of the souls trapped in his body.

“Then the most pressing question…the tree.” Most notably Basel’s tone was serious, discarding his sarcastic and uncaring attitude.

“The tree,” Nefarian repeated, scratching his chin. “It’s roots have penetrated the planet but they seem to congregate to the west. Rather fitting. It is the polar opposite of where everything ended, and where a new world will begin.”

Basel took a step toward the antichamber, his eyes practically glowing. “Then I must go find Madara.”

Drackos · Feb 7, 2022

THE HEART

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You are dead, brother. Defeated.

Do you not see it? Are you blind to their twisted intentions and ambitions?

You are dead. Murdered by me, your sibling, your loving brother, the god of ▇▇▇▇. I cleaved your body in two and from it I pulled your heart out with my own bare hands.

Brother…no.

This is good. I have learned from this. I will build something real, something that lasts forever, from your death. Our universe spirals toward cold entropy. Humanity’s eyes are old, their limbs frail, their wisdom stagnating. The generation of Marduk’s Immortals has long since passed. Do you not want to build something that lasts forever? Civilization everlasting? Something that cannot end.

Please. Your thoughts have been twisted. We’ve been played for fools. I beg you to listen to me.

Our sister said the same as you. But where did her neutrality get her?

You killed her?

Thump.

Destroyed her. She was rent asunder by my great blade.

You’ve become a monst-

Don’t speak, brother. Your words are wasted. Strength that could be otherwise better spent carving out my everlasting destiny.

I feel the life leaving my metaphorical body before my brother plunges his hand into my opened thorax to rip out my heart.

This isn’t how the story is supposed to end.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Drackos · Feb 7, 2022

GLD.AMP//MEMORY LOG//U:MARA-04/KAMIYASUMI/CEDAR FOREST

“Damn mosquitos!” Reed groaned, lashing out at the humid air around him as the trio penetrated deeper into the Cedar Forest.

“Mara, are you sure about this?” Talia asked, closely trailing behind her sister.

Mara did not respond. She was focused on the task at hand, using her blade to cut down the wiry tangle of roots and bushes obstructing their path as they pushed further inland. The young woman had never been more sure of anything before in her life. The artifact had led them here, an island that had not seen humanity for thousands of years. Each step they took led them closer to the heart of a raging storm.

“She’s lost it,” Reed whispered under his breath, still flailing his arms to bat away the pestering insects.

“Don’t say that!” Talia retorted, practically slapping his arm as she paused for a moment.

“Would you two quit it?” Mara snapped back, her concentration broken. “I’m trying to listen.” In her ear she could hear a buzzing; but it was not from the mosquitos that were harassing Reed. It was from the crystalline black and white stone in her pocket. “Nothing makes sense here…” She groaned in frustration.

“Maybe we should turn back. You know, while the sun is still up and the shore is close by,” Talia asked, almost begging. Their mission to safeguard their village from the monsters born from the Hokubu’s tainted waters had long since mutated into something far more grand in scale - its purification.

Mara’s only response was the sound of her sword cutting through another branch, sighing, and pushing onward. She could hear the buzzing growing ever slightly more prominent in her ears, egging her to go deeper into the mysterious Cedar Forest at the heart of Kamiyasumi.

Minutes passed.

And then hours.

The forest soon reverberated with the sound of droplets bouncing off wind blasted leaves as they neared the heart of the hurricane. By now the idea of returning to the island’s shores were a distant dream. But despite the rain the buzzing in Mara’s ear had only grown louder, continuing to perpetuate a self-reinforcing idea that she was on the right path. As the wind grew stronger Talia and Reed’s confidence in their expedition continued to fade, but Mara remained a steadfast and bright flame in the storm. She would see this through. Finally they came upon a clearing in the forest, met with a thin translucent barrier that separated them from shelter from the storm. It was difficult to see through it, but it seemed to glisten as they approached.

“This is it..” Mara marveled, appreciating the barrier’s sturdiness.

She touched its edge with no concern for her own safety. As if the artifact’s whispers guaranteed that it would not harm her. That she was meant to pass through it. And just like that her hand phased through it, unharmed.

Archive The Timeless Observer and Twin Pillars

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