Chrysalis

I am not, as you know, a religious man. The screeching priests and their endless droning on all matters ‘Path’ hold no attraction to me. I’ve no time for their words, elixirs or ‘ideas’.

I don’t care how many Levels I’d get.

Almost everything around us can be explained, we literally have a ‘System’ we can analyse, for goodness’ sake. Just because we can’t identify the origins of said System, doesn’t mean we need to assume some form of deity.

The Ancients, though, are different. They are real, observed, named, experienced. One can study them, if you know where to look for the historical record. They are demonstrably, observably and materially as close to divine as a being can be.

It is foolish to consider them as simply monsters, they are as far from an average monster as a ka’armodo is from a gecko. We are ants to them. It’s hardly surprising that such powerful beings would inspire worship. When you cannot run from them, and you cannot fight them, one might as well pray.

- Excerpt from the private correspondence of Illarion the heretic

Deep within the Dungeon.

Arconidem dreamed. The Demon God had slept for so long, thoughts drifting slowly in and out of oblivion, away from the material world at times, then drifting closer again.

It was such a time now. Visions of demons at war flickered rapid-fire, one after another, through the Ancient’s mind. Violence, fire and ash, over and over again, all types of demon battling against all kinds of foe. A never-ending battle of rage and chaos that wrapped around Pangera’s core.

Such a pleasant dream.

Demon God

an instant, the mana inside the grand chamber plummeted, leaving those present gasping as their cores screamed out in pain. Deprived of the energy that gave them life, the God’s attendants writhed even as

an endless torrent of energy that they pulled greedily into their cores. The pain

Arconidem opened both eyes.

were crushed under the weight of the Ancient’s presence. The force of such a mighty being was intolerable, even to those who had experienced it before.

a glance, two long arms tipped

and the entire chamber rocked. Stone dust fell from above, showering all, even the Ancient in dust. Blazing magma began to flow, released from the stone after centuries of slumber, igniting the air which filled with suffocating

a gentler one, the mana density dropping by half before it stabilised again

the attendants who now prostrated themselves before the living throne, the Ancient grinned a slow and menacing grin and tasted

cycle approaches

down on the attendants and pressed them to the floor. They trembled under its weight, even as their

Soon, my children, we will

centre of the

thoughts. Like a snake, the Ancient snatched it up, examined it, then wove a new

familiar mind, one not felt for many

I am not the first, Carriflare.

light and heat that even the Demon God could not touch

draws near, the others stir,

[What of Yarrum?]

[Sleeping still.]