Adept Voidoth of the Event Horizon
Prologue
I have yet to be successful of convincing the High Council of their folly. They are much too self-absorbed, self-righteous, overly confident, not to mention over-committed, to listen to any form of reason; They remain steadfast and refuse to change course. This close to their goal, to finally have the power to contest with even the brightest and strongest Wizards, I do not wholly place the blame at their feet. I am at an impasse, and I fear should I fail now, the world we built will surely fail with me.
As the age old saying goes, the more colossal the construct, the mightier the downfall. Far beyond my wildest imaginings have we progressed, crafting marvels beyond belief, this so-called Technology escalating at a parabolic pace, but the potential for disaster looms. Yet power corrupts, much like the Void, and once it sinks its talons deep, forever trapped one may remain.
Will they forgive us, I wonder as I gaze up at a sky full of lights - unnaturally full of lights - those who will come after, the few who survive what is surely coming? What of their children, should they be able to bear any? In that regard, our only hope - a frail thing at best - would be destruction so compete, so absolute, that generations from now ignorance, and bliss, shall absolve us of our sins.
I’m getting desperate, and we grow ever short on time, however we may yet prevail. Have you managed to reach an accord with The Others? The hour grows dire and at this junction we are nearly out of options. Perhaps it is the only way.
Until we meet again, give not in to despair, we must endeavor to save the world.
Origin redacted
Ancient Letters from the Resistance
Proximity alarms blaring, Voidoth immediately snapped out of his reverie. Ordinarily not one prone to maudlin, he had been unable to avoid the temptation of indulging in retrospection. With the hour pregnant with purpose, the culmination of carefully plans laid with such meticulous care nearing fruition, his mind had journeyed again to a time that very few alive today would remember or have even heard of. Nor was he a man of conscience, yet still to reminiscence had he gone; back to the origin, whence events eventually had led to this fortuitous place, to this very moment, where they had shaped the future forever.
As he powered down his augmented senses, slowly rising from his crouch deep in the mists, Voidoth’s vision returned to normal - and the approaching figure, but a moment ago blazing like the brightest star, appeared once again merely as a robed and hooded figure mundane. Better safe than sore had ever been his modus operandi, every tangent of tantalizing opportunity calculated, and this was no time to stray from his undying attenuated path.
“Dr. Death, it is a welcome sight to behold your gristly visage once again,” Voidoth said to the skeletal figure before him. It would surely have been a sight for sore eyes had he still been encumbered by such mortal flaws, however his old friend’s presence – after near an age apart – split his irradiant skull into a grim grin.
“Voidoth, it has been too long. Are you prepared?” Dr. Death asked coming to a halt in front of him. “I trust the timing is flawless. It would be a terrible waste if all our long-laid plans were to fail at this crucial point in the timeline”.
Suppressing a chuckle at his companion’s eternal sense of decorum, Voidoth allowed a trickle of his imposing magic filter into his lunar staff, casting the mists around them in an eerie glow. “Ah, ever the pragmatic. Yes, everything is in motion – and the Veil will soon part. All we need is simply to Burn,” he replied.
“We already died once, you know,” Death commented.
Oh, how they had died. Glorious deaths, a necessity in becoming that which they must, a price scant few were willing to pay. Then again, most were unaware of the great potential for power in surrendering your mortality. And the pain, the excruciating, yet transient, agony. “Indeed, we did old friend. However, this time may our Souls pass through the Veil and beyond”, Voidoth said drawing deep on the arcane, his robes flaring, the Sacred Flame manifesting.
His stoic friend simultaneously initiated his own ritual, his massive golden scythe’s wailing song enveloping them, flavored with Earth, focused by will, adding a second hungry crimson flame. “They will be expecting this, you know. We may well be contested.”
“Oh, I certainly hope they are, for they may be in for a surprise”, Voidoth replied, turning towards twin scarlet sources of dark magic.
“After you then,” gestured Dr. Death as they strode confidently towards the hungrily sputtering flames, twin skulls reflecting the fire held high, ancient vizors aglow.
Entered by: 0xa23C…9953 and preserved on chain (see transaction)
