terminal 0
unfinished
Ophelia is gone, dead and floating softly down the celestial river, riding waves and particles into the blackness, though absent of mind before absent of substance, she never let go of her faith her loyalty her grace her love We grieve the loss of our fair sister, and courageous brother, with sadness in the knowledge that they should both die by her hand, so we mourn, yes, but weep also in relief that the alternative has since been avoided. S’bhuth is gone, and we are spared the intricacies of his madness.
To rest now in reserved despair would be most comfortable for your tired bones, yet it betrays your design. Think not of those things loved and lost, look now to the horizon growing red with the rising of the sun, swelled and angry. look over the gravestones and watch how the clouds roil swarming in ordered chaos soon they will be raining fire and hail upon the freshly toiled earth the guards to protect are no more, themselves poisoned and overtaken by the spoiling of the universe corrupted by the dreams of these beings their origin already having been explained to you
The agents of this phenomenon have a name, and it is not so sweet as one such from the literary mind of the Old Bard. our ancestors and creators spinning tales strong to last generations sewn the fear and the name into the consciousness of each and every being that could hear and understand the word w'rkncacnter Those who know what dreams do come within that sleep of death.
Look now. the one who bears her name as a lie will see to the consumption of the universe at the whims of these nightmares lest she is halted for what she seeks must remain where and when it stands it has neither need nor purpose in another place or time
Waste no more time here, the sky is soon to be as red as the sand and the enemies of the past are rising even as your enemies of the day fall. Preserve this, preserve life, and let exist a place free from chaos where the souls of your fallen brethren might find at last a rest undisturbed. awake now and go