2nd Epoch, 1st year of the Moon

The sun was blood-coloured, and the sky seemed to be in a perpetual state of twilight. Shattered remnants of the once-majestic moon pockmarked the surface with smoking craters. The grey ash clouds obscured any view of the sky, while charred cinders floated to the ground like obsidian snowflakes.

A mountain stretched upwards putting up a solitary resistance against the unholy carnage wreaked upon that place. On its slope, a half-melted torso lay, veiled in a thin layer of soot. As though fighting against the will of gods, a bony hand was extended from under its cover of black ash. Ligaments and muscles were falling of the bone, yet that arm continued to move.

As though with a singular purpose, it pressed down on the ground below to lift itself. Its face was revealed, a hideous mess of flesh on bone. Its lack of eyelids gave it a look of wild insanity as it looked around.

He opened his mouth, but only harsh rasping came from his torn vocal cords.

“Where am I?”, he thought. Looking down at the ground beneath him, he saw a vitrified face frozen in rictus terror stare back at him. Its facial muscles were petrified in its spasm of pure and unadulterated fear.

Reflexively he tried to jump backwards, but when he tried to move his legs, he felt nothing. He looked down in confusion to see his body end in fleshy tatters just above his waist.

“Ah yes, that’s right”

With his newfound awareness fuelling him, he laboured up that mountain, crawling upwards through sheer strength of will. Instead of rocky handholds, his fingers found shards of cold carcasses and forgotten remains.

Looking upwards, the summit seemed to be an unreachable target, hovering tantalisingly in the corner of his view.

Soon, his body adapted to the smooth terrain as he accelerated his climb. Each body he saw beneath him only hardened his purpose and sharpened his resolve.

“They created us”

His left hand gripped the ledge firmly, the flesh all but worn down to the bone. The red sun could just be seen faintly over the edge, dimmed by the ever-present ash.

With a momentous effort, he pulled his body up onto a small platform, revealing what was previously obscured by the mountain.

“To die for them”

Pure and utter desolation.

His pupils contracted, as a hellscape even demons would fear stretched out beneath him. Valleys and mountains of vitrified carcasses extended onwards until the horizon, looking like shards stabbed in the ground by a giant’s hand. Their faces were all frozen in agony, as though having died under a terrible torment. The corpses were reflective, scattering the ruby light of the sun like drops of crystal blood.

The scarlet glow of the sun shone a red ray of light through a rare gap in the clouds, illuminating a mountain’s peak in the distance, before being covered once again.

For that split second, he saw as clear as day, a silver sword stabbed in the chest of a corpse. A maroon, blood-stained ribbon fluttered around its handle. The word Life was written on it in hideous calligraphy seeming to mock the decimation all around, like a cruel joke from the gods.

Seeing that word, as though a switch was flipped in his brain, his eye sockets were lit aflame as he stared piercingly at the sword. His rage permeated the air as the falling ash began to swirl around him. The flame grew blindingly bright like a second sun, before receding abruptly as his eyes regained their previous calmness.

Despite that, they somehow seemed more penetrating than before, as though his gaze itself could shear flesh from bone.

Muscles and ligaments began to regrow on his bones as though time were being rewound, while an agonising pain radiated from his lower body as it regrew fully.

Flashes of memories blinked past his tortured mind, as he sank into the depths of semi-consciousness:

Placing a small hand on the inside of a glass tube while seeing blurry figures walk past.

Being strapped to a chair while figures clad in masks stare down at him with cold eyes.

Waking up and feeling a strange power flow within him.

A battlefield, the sky dim with fog, where the person in front of him was blown up, spraying entrails all over him.

Soon slaughter was all that he knew, but little by little it seemed more like he was the one doing the killing.

Strapped to that chair once more, yet this time, instead of cold indifference, he could see a small flicker of interest in the eyes of the masked people.

Once again, he woke up with more power, and was thrust on to the battlefield.

He killed.

He was strapped to the chair.

He killed.

The cycle repeated innumerable times, until the masked people took him to a different chamber. Filling a vial with a strange solution, they were just about to inject him when an explosion sounded in a different area of the facility.

The doors were blown open and soldiers poured in. Alarmed, the masked man holding the vial stabbed it in the machine and switched it on. At that moment the facility itself exploded, expelling him through the air until he landed far from that place.

What he saw as he looked up at the sky would be burned in his brain forever:

A scaled monstrosity that blotted out the sun itself, casting an unnatural dark over the planet. It opened its mouth and a white beam the size of a mountain was shot towards the planet. It was so searingly hot, it transcended the very concept of a flame as it evaporated the crust within milliseconds, drilling relentlessly towards the planet’s core.

A cavernous roar thundered across the planet, as though the world itself was letting out its dying breath. The shockwave swept across the planet in seconds, obliterating anything in its path. The heat from the blast liquefied the rock, creating tsunamis of glowing magma that undulated across the planet and vaporised what remained of the atmosphere. As the blast wave swept over him, he returned to the blackness of unconsciousness.

Abruptly he was jolted from his memories as the pain disappeared. Standing up he looked upwards at the sky, mourning its black tears, and spoke a single word:

“Dragon”

Those terrible syllables echoed in the emptiness of the planet as though mocking his powerlessness. He clenched his fists as his eyes gained unnatural clarity, observing the hellish calamity that spread out at his feet.

----

Modern Galactic Era 7845

In a dark cell, a guard clad in bronze armour knocked on the bars of a cell with an echoing clang and spoke to a figure obscured by shadows sitting inside, "You're up next".

Coming from above them, the sound of the announcer's voice could just be heard over the roar of the crowd:

"And facing our challenger is the undefeated champion, the King of Killing himself! We all know him, we all fear him, put your hands together for.....INVICTUS!"

The noise reached a crescendo as the crowd chanted his name.

The figure, previously sitting still, raised his head revealing a flame burning intensely in his eye socket.

******

Location: #P786D7G4S831

The Admiral looked around the familiar briefing room, the U-shaped table with him standing in the centre. Holograms of various figures were projected in the empty seats.

The figure on the far right stood up and spoke first, "Mission debrief Admiral Henitos Glaive, serial C89-Helix, presided over by Minister of Home Affairs Farium Deephelm.". He gestured to the Admiral to continue, and sat back down in his seat.

'Even the Minister of Home Affairs is here', the Admiral thought to himself, 'it seems like the information inmate #254 betrayed about the Chaos Order was of high priority'.

The Admiral saluted sharply before continuing in a deep voice,

"Both Lady Ossilia and I were dispatched to Exo Prime to deal with the breakout incident regarding inmate #254 Archbishop Syn of the Chaos Order. On arrival, we were debriefed by the station team and took a landing shuttle to his last known location. Using the Hounds, I located him at a crossroads, with evidence of battle against the Guards.

Despite Lady Ossilia being subdued by him, she bought enough time for me to end it with shadow spike. Unfortunately, he was unable to be captured alive: his signet has already been handed over to the research department."

The Minister spoke up again in a gravelly voice, "It is regrettable that you were unable to capture him alive, nonetheless, the successful elimination of the target is also acceptable."

Before the Minister could continue, the Admiral spoke quickly, "If I may, sir, there were several irregularities with this mission that I believe need addressing".

The Minister leant back in his chair and replied, "By all means, continue".

"Despite being logged as a psychic of the 8th order, the strength he displayed during our battle was at least of the 9th order, if not more."

This time, the figure to the left of the Minister spoke up for the first time, in with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "Now that is certainly interesting, Admiral Glaive. After all, we all know that it is impossible to train one's strength Exo Prime", he gestured to the others seated besides him, "so how is it possible that he could be stronger? Truly a dilemma".

'Lord Hali Astrom', the Admiral thought to himself, grinding his teeth silently, 'that silver-tongued devil'.

"There is one more thing", the Admiral quelled his anger and replied, "Just before his death he mentioned something called the 'Vanishing', I believe he meant it as some sort of event".

When the Admiral had finished speaking, the briefing room was silent before the Minister stood up once more and spoke, "We will relay this information to the correct departments. You should take your mandatory rest, Admiral, you deserve it"

The Admiral saluted once more and was just about to turn around and leave when the silky voice of Lord Astrom floated through the room, "Ah, before I forget, you're fleet has been re-assigned from the Nine Rings sector, please make sure you complete the appropriate procedures in preparation."

The Admiral whirled around in anger and said, "My fleet is the most well equipped for that strategic location, why would Command Centre want to re-assign me?"

Lord Astrom was unfazed by the Admiral's outburst and replied calmly, "Well, you were gone on a mission so we needed someone to pick up your slack for you".

"I'm back now aren't I?", the Admiral responded fiercely.

"Now, now, Admiral Glaive, please show some decorum", Lord Astrom said with an almost unnoticeable grin on his cold face.

The Admiral fumed silently, 'And this is why Ossilia hates politicians', he thought.

Lord Astrom continued without pause, "You should know as well as anyone that one of the terms of our treaty with the Empire was that we cannot re-station military forces larger than or equal to a fleet within 15 standard galactic days on our border with them."

Lord Astrom finished with a smug smile, "Oh and your replacement will be Admiral Drysis, please see him as soon as possible for the handover procedures".

The Admiral gnashed his teeth while Lord Astrom smirked at him from the corner of his eye

"Very well then, I shall see to it at once", the Admiral swallowed his bitter resentment and saluted before leaving the room

After he had gone, however, the light atmosphere at once was lost, replaced in its stead by an ominous mood.

The Minister was the first to speak with a serious expression on his hard-lined face, "Once again this 'Vanishing' pops up and despite all our efforts we have yet to find any event with even a similar name."

One of the people who had stayed silent during the briefing, spoke up in the characteristically shrill voice of the Gefar race, "The earliest records dating back to just a few decades into the Modern Galactic Era after the Age of Obscurity do mention some sort apocalyptic event, however it is never mentioned explicitly, as though out of fear.

"Furthermore, we know that powerful beings have all but disappeared from the galactic stage at some point during the Age of Obscurity. The gods no longer answer prayers and the creatures of myth have all disappeared. The problem is that we have absolutely no idea about that Age or what it was like before. Nonetheless, we are close to uncovering some secrets that I suspect even the elves are far from."

She spoke reassuringly yet what she left unsaid was the fact that if the Chaos Order knew something about the 'Vanishing', they might be a much larger threat than previously estimated...

****************************

Their legacies have barely begun, yet the ripples in ■■■ ■■■■ of ■■■■■■■ have already begun to spread. Only when the ■■■■■■■ ■■■■■■■ reaches its conclusion and we approach the ■■ ■■■■■■■■■■■ can their ■■■■ be decided.

- M■■A■■■■■■■■■, [Achive error 779710032651149910410511610199116115 ]