The fall
The two sorcerers clashed in a storm of purifying fire. solidifying eyes, claws and teeth rose from the shadows to meet the flames. The brutal collision tore out the surrounding masonry; the screaming of the neverborn and flames pushed to their zenith filled every room in the spire.
The planet was in its final moments, gaping chasms opened up across its surface that drank in ocean and imperial forces alike. These formed veins connecting the hive cities of the planet, each a profane ritual site from the streets submerged in blood. For those in orbit crude sigils could be seen, the madness of their meaning robbing all of the ability to breathe.
The reduction in productivity that ignited the conflict was due to the horrifying scale of blood sacrifices committed. Tunnels dug in secret that connected each city, not in mere straight lines but letters, shapes and images. The scale of the slaughter was unimaginable and now the planet descended, no longer could constellations be seen from those on the surface or above the skies. A murky darkness surrounded all and things moved in the darkness that defied scale entirely.
At the centre of it all the Sorcerer of Nostramo could not recognise the face of the loyalist in pitched battle against him. Although, he was well accustomed to the soul that resided inside it. For too long he had expended his resources to capture this spirit once beyond the veil. Yet here it remained with a youthful face anchoring it to real space, a mystery he was intent on solving.
“I have arrived” echoed around the world.
The surface of the planet rippled, its air becoming sluggish and thick. Noctis V had now reached the bottom and the warp swallowed it whole.
Commissioned by @igorivanov_art
