Aloria Story Progression The Prefect Of Solitary Victory

Rows of beastly men, bowed and heads low in deference, stood as lines of guarding knights over cracked ruins. The hall of the former Opiraz, once entombed with stone and rubble, was mostly excavated by the beastly hands of the Marked, and now was the triumphant return of the machine’s last master and his allies. Besides the man in Void Script walked a strongman of stone, a compassionate Nelfin, an arrogant blade master, a fickle trickster, and a childish yellow garbed. A curious pair flanked by curious beings who were once average Regalians having fallen to the vices and corruptions of Demons. From the claw marks and scratches it was obvious, the stone had been slashed and hauled. The beasts once soldiers of an army of doom had seemingly become nothing more than mere labor to reveal a machine that was worth more than them all combined. And yet, the Opiraz lay in ruin.

Without mistake, the batteries were broken, the conduits smashed and the whole thing was disheveled. Of this once proud remnant of Seraph machinery, only a hollow shell of contorted metal and Exist stone remained, a poor fate for a machine so vital in the halting of death on the doorstep of the Empire. But perhaps like all things that break and are remade anew, the twisted parts gave way to a shimmer of opportunity not seen for many millennia. Beneath the Opiraz now lay exposed a vast tunnel that would reach deep into the bowels of seven circles of darkness beneath the highest stone on the street above.

Descending the tunnel, the odd group made their way past paths once threaded before. A path where once the arrogant and the beast battled for entry to the depth. Where once monsters lurked, chased far into the depths and left to rot with mindrot and corruption in their body. Every step exposed yet another corpse, humanoid in form yet ribcages burst, arms split and hair overgrown. The fate of the forgotten and mutated under the surface was a sad one. The collapse of the tunnels at the hands of the false Empress, the undead queen, was a legacy of hunger, fear, cannibalism, and finally empty silence.

Time seemed to be a matter of the outside world, a world where darkness is carried by torchlight in the hearts of men, contrasting to the light carried by lantern in the deep by the living. The uneasy alliance between the odd group had proven difficult to make, but with a commonality in mind. The strongman of stone used impressive magics to repair bridges, to cast away stone and to clear the path ever forward. The compassionate Nelfin used her Celestial Light to lead the way, while all others trailed behind. At the very end marched the childish yellow garbed with a package most peculiar. Swung around his shoulder was a fishnet cast around the head of a statue, a face of a woman most serene in beauty, but violent in expression with cracks of blue in her stone. The Midnight Court had long died. Perhaps many had assumed their work was still afoot, but while Men and Elfin raged wars on the surface, Great Forces worked beneath to eliminate obstacles to their machinations.

Finally they arrived at the final bridge, the final bridge before the greatest door of them all. The bridge was narrow, yet passable, and the gate remained just as magnificent as it was since last the Void Script covered one laid eyes on it. They had finally arrived at the apex of it all, the epicenter where everything had ever started, the first conduit into the worlds beyond the world their mortal forms. It was here that their footsteps would echo similar sounds made over seven thousand years ago, to undo an act that had been forced onto the world and continued to scar it with the rising and falling of ever passing civilization. The Void Script covered one started the rituals of power that were only bestowed to those who consumed, while the others simply watched. The door swung open in an elegant display, to uncover the striking horror that lay underneath, thousands of clawing eyeless figures attempting to release their physical form from torture everlasting. It was here that the group sacrificed the head of stone to be dissolved and to be absorbed by the terror beneath the door. Their visages calmed and their movements became calmer yet, quite dissimilar to what happened above.

All with silver eyes of the Exist felt a stinging pain in their eyes that would last for up to a minute, followed by a sense of intense dread. All those that practiced the magics of the Exist felt a similar burning sensation in their chest, as if being drained of what powers sustained them. At the doorway ruled only a sense of contentment, until the lights of the compassionate one were snuffed, and some others followed after. Just like the mutants had been laid to rest before, it all started with hunger, carried with fear, and ended with cannibalism and complete silence.

When it was all over, a single light emerged next to the Void Script covered one, decked in crimson red. A flick of the wrist caused stone to roll, and a touch will made mirrors obsolete through trickery. It was all his now, and whatever objective lay ahead, perhaps not even he would know.

OOC Notes

• All Arken powers are now disabled. Any Arken artefacts or items have become useless and powerless.
• Exist Mages cannot cast Magic for 2 IRL days after this event.
• Exist Silven unless Exist Mages, are not negatively affected.