Into the Dark

Avariel watched as another terminal went dark, static noise filling the observance chamber.

The battle was proceeding smoothly, and the Burning Ones in this sector had only just exited their Tomb Cloud. On every terminal, Warships floated in the cold void of space, the planet below scarred by bombardment.

Forces clad in cold metal stood as bastions against the incoming tide of black, burning Flesh. While some stations had fallen, the front remained strong and steady. No Burning Ones had come to attack directly, and for that Avariel was thankful.

A scene on one of the terminals caught Avariel’s eye. Pieces of rubble began to fall apart with no visible source and faint ripples littered the bloated clouds of debris.

Looking closely, Avariel began tracing the changes.

A piece began to distort and warp, before fading to nothing.

Another chunk stopped in its trajectory. Halting in its immediate path before crumbling into cosmic dust.

Avariel’s six eyes opened wide. His pupils dashed frantically as the terminals went black.

Engaging his communications, Avariel tried to shout.

Stations crumbled into nothing.

Starships blown to cosmic dust.

Every terminal flashed to black.

Avariel left his perch and opened the door. He hastily scrambled to the command centre of the bridge.

And on the centre screen…

He saw the planet erupt in black, burnt Flesh.

At that moment, reality was rent asunder as a rift to the blinding Void opened. In the maddening rush of power, there was a blinding, golden flash. Every god present was reduced to chunks and bloody pulp. The Transcended stood still. No one could fire as an aura of oppression brought them to their knees. A deafening cacophany of screaming souls erupted from the remains of their divinity.

Marathoth.

The name brought dread as the Lidless Eye stood among the remains of Avariel’s deities. And here it was, in its maddening, terrible glory. Avariel finally had a good look at the monster.

A gaunt and emaciated humanoid, one not of flesh but of misshapen metal. The ribs jutted out of its torso like jagged blades, and the cruel bladed claws dripped with divine ichor. The head was faceless, save for two ominous, red eyes, as silvery tendrils flowed from the back of its head in an imitation of hair. Golden shards of metal orbited around the figure as if they were a planet.

It was a deformed and disfigured, but its movements were deliberate and bold, with not a hint of awkwardness; it was beheld of unnatural grace and indifference, as it walked to the centre of the bridge.

It faced towards them, and uttered a single command.

 

D̞̺͎͕͕̭͎̲̠̙̝̱̯̂ͮ́̓͋͛ͭͯ̚͜͠i̴̹͈̺̱͇͔̜̼͇͕͈͎̟̣͖̺͈̠͊̋̎͗̀͠͞eͤ̂͑ͣ̚͏̢̖̦͚͕͖̙̦̖̠̼̻͎̻͚̳̜͝

Avariel heard the word. He felt it with every sense he had, and many that he didn’t, for no mortal language could describe the sensations that overwhelmed him. The very concept of the word dug itself into his being.

He felt his soul ripped apart, as forces not of his universe tugged and pulled at it with utter indifference.

He opened his mouth for one last scream.

And within the chorus of dying souls, there was only silence.