Recent content by Empor

As the Queen motioned, now ascended, the shadow that once manifested in realms only deep in the Netherworld, now mirrored her motions in an anti-matter reflection cast upon the ethereal matter of the Nether. Eyes shining, through iris forged in Death, now seeing two sights instead of one, the...

Price Price Price The very word heavy with meaning, in manner perhaps too twisted and occult for the one who uttered them to realize. In the carnivorous world of the Nether, black of fate and absent in hope, yet so desired by numerous to experience, ignorant of what truly lied beyond the...

As light bled the walls, the scarabs crawled deeper and deeper into the corners yet to be washed by the bright light surging from within. The very labyrinth was shaken by a sudden taste of a power that had yet to be inflicted upon the nightmare: Time. And time indeed bled open the very shards...

The reflection observed. She said no words, though her gaze spoke tales. Tales of pain. Tales of struggle. Tales of a lifetime lived in vein, for a purpose found in Death. And yet, even in the Shallows of the Netherworld, that purpose remained ever a mystery, furthering the meaningless apparent...

You will Learn You will Learn The memory of colour a foreign world. The hood red and foul, daemonic and mischievous. It danced and spinned, remanifesting across the shattered remnant of what was once lived. So long ago, it felt like, the very reflection of reality twisted in ignorance and...

Resistance. Defiance. Submission. Too long had she stared into the Darkness. Too long, had she wept of a life not her own bestowed upon her by forces wicked and corrupt. How long would she last? How much would she endure, before her finally yielded to the primal instinct of facing the lesser...

Time of Life and Time of Death. Time of Madness and Time of Pain. Words had lost their meaning, and so He looked at Her in silent contempt. And yet, such was not for her, her state, or the countless lives lived in lies, but for his own making. His own error that allowed such to be achieved...

The mist stirred. Another circle had closed. Another life turned to memory. It was in such moments, eternal and abstract, when the amalgam of Dreams took shape, in manner so foreign to all things material, to even comperhend them though experienced thoroughly, was to succumb to insanity so...

Asara The voice beckoned. A voice twisted, lost in echoes of timeless chains. The corridors of the Onyx labyrinth swell with intent as heavy as the stars offering the galaxy her immortal glaze. Perhaps in the absence of time, any frequency remained pure across the ether, denied the corruption...

A moment... That was all it took. A moment of Wrath. A moment of Envy. Engulfed in a lifetime of diseased will and blighted cause, crowned by Death. A moment of Passion. Toyed and deformed, Manipulated and Denied, never mourned by none, but Death. And all that was, unmade. All that meant...

As the palm eclipsed the starless void, the absence of all became so dominant, it grew flesh and bones and mass and will. And as her eyes reached out to the Darkness, in search of reason and purpose and cause, so did the Darkness glared back at her. Beholding her in an eyeless stare, an...

Of all the wicked things taught through the tulmutious nature of Life and Regret, most horrid are those left inconceivable but for the final moments in which the Breath is claimed by Death. A moment of eternity, an act felt heavy enough to mark the mortal soul with Damnation, in a time in which...

Pain... The God of all things mortal... Pain... An angel of things so terrible, never graced by name, or form, save that of lamentation. The blood dripped, producing a near-inaudible pop, upon meeting the metal of the catwalk. Strange shadows beneath her feet stirred. Scarabs, moths of six...

So ignorant, a child, and proud an entity not to see itself the Shadow it had become. Never a blind, in the absence of light. Never the keen, in the void of purpose. Though mighty, brought low, she yet to yield to a fate laid before her, tailored by her very skin and the threads of her soul. It...

The bogs offered no compassion, comfort or reassurance, save for the cold stagnant state in which Death manifested to those that never spoke. The absence of all a void that caused the tinniest shard of imperfection scream in cries deafening to witness. There was no deceiving Death. There was no...