A storm of madness raged across the boundless expanse. Shapes without form twisted in and out of existence, their bodies shifting between grotesque amalgamations of flesh and chitin, and unnameable horrors. Some loomed like mountains, only to crumble into rivers of liquid void, spilling into the yawning abyss below. Others slithered through the ever-warping landscape, their limbs—if they could even be called such—sprouting and withering in erratic pulses.
The sky, if such a thing could exist here, was a tumultuous sea of contradictions. Veins of molten night slashed through its expanse, birthing impossible constellations that blinked out before any eye could glimpse them. Cascades of luminous shadows drowned the world in their ephemeral brilliance, only to be swallowed by a darkness deeper than the void itself. Time twisted upon itself, dragging the past into the present, erasing futures before they could be imagined. To perceive this realm, was to unravel. Mortal minds would be flayed apart, their thoughts rewritten into incoherent whispers before vanishing into the night.
Yet in the midst of this chaos, there was a wound. A blemish of stillness carved into the ever-consuming storm.
A sphere of dull, gray entropy hung in the heart of this madness, a stagnant bubble where time held its breath. here, the endless churning of destruction and creation fell silent, leaving only stillness—an unnatural void where even chaos had forgotten to exist. Within this dead hollow stood a manor, untouched by the writhing nightmares outside.
It was beautiful, in the way of things long lost and ill-remembered. its spires reached towards the sky in impossible shapes, its walls woven from techniques no living soul could recall. The archways bore patterns erased from history, their designs whispering of civilizations that had never been. And yet, something was missing.
Color.
Where the rest of the abyss bled vibrancy—Screaming hues beyond mortal comprehension— this place was drained of all things. The stones, the wood, and the very air itself had been bleached of life. It wasn't gray, or white, or even black. It was simply.. an absence of color. A space where the world had forgotten its vibrancy.
Within this void, where silence reigned and entropy lay undisturbed, change was an impossibility. The air never stirred, the manor did not decay, and the lifeless garden did not bloom or wither. A moment stretched into eternity.
But this eternity was not absolute.
A star was born in the shifting chaos beyond. It flared into being, carving itself into the sky for an instant—one that might have been a millennium or the blink of an eye. it cast its light downward, its radiance stretching across the wr?thing landscape, breaking against the colorless wound of entropy.
A single ray of light pierced the courtyard, brushing against the petrified flora, For the first time in a time beyond reckoning, color breached the stillness.
The light did not fade or disperse. It froze in place, defiant of the colorless gloom. The golden glow solidified, a jagged sliver of radiance suspended in midair. Then with a crack, it fractured—shards of brilliance splintering like broken glass. But the fragments did not fall. They hovered, shifting, twisting upon themselves as they began to form a shape. The air around them warped, bending inward, reflections upon reflections cascading in endless recursion. The shape grew, unfolding into something that looked almost humanoid in shape. Tall and slender, but indistinct, the sharp shards of light assembled into a being of a thousand mirrors, held together by an unseen force. it did not belong here. It was an intrusion upon the entropy, its surface mirroring the chaos outside. Looking upon it was like gazing into an infinite corridor of mirrors, each pane swallowing the next, devouring depth and space until all meaning unraveled.
The figure exhaled. A sigh of annoyance, perhaps at the lack of reception, or the gloom of the place. It lifted its head towards the towering structure before it., then strode forward with measured steps, moving through the garden of forgotten things. It walked without hesitation, its mirrored form catching the light of stars long dead yet newly born, towards the waiting doors. Its footsteps echoed through the empty corridors of the mansion, each step a defiance of the stillness that had reigned undisturbed for an eternity. The figure moved with neither hesitation nor reverence, its presence pressed by the weight of the one who had made this domain yes, but it had a weight of its own. The oppressive feeling mirrored itself back at the space until they canceled each other out, as the entity traversed the countless corridors, untouched by time, untouched by decay, until it emerged into a vast chamber.
It was a thing of glory. Octagonal in shape, it was filled to the brim with ostentatious ornaments, exotic treasures on display, and forgotten art decorating its walls. Windows in the ceiling showed scenes both of this realm and others, both entrancing and chilling. it was filled with a reverent silence, an unspeakable sense of majesty. But the steps of the entity cut through the silence like a chisel through stone. The mirrored being directed his gaze to the middle of this hall, unperturbed by the hoards of treasure. At its heart, upon an elevated throne woven from the stolen breath of a thousand men, sat the one who had made this hollow place.
It was a being of darkness and fog, shifting, with an ephemeral form that never fully settled into anything distinct. The mist coiled around her, as though she herself was an unfinished thought, an existence unformed, yet absolute. She did not need shape. Her presence alone was suffocating.
here eyes, black as pitch, empty as the abyss, rose to meet her guest. And in that moment, the hunger that radiated from her was palpable. A void unending, an abyss that devoured all, yet was never full. A need to consume, to claim, to make all things hers simply so that the emptiness within her would not consume herself.
The mirrored figure did not flinch beneath her gaze. It just reached out a hand and plucked from the air a faint ray of light that had dared wander into the chambers of the devourer as if it was tangible. The light shuddered, stretched, and then settled into the form of a chair of pure light, beautiful, yet fragile. The mirrored figure sat down, unbothered. And lazily, it spoke in greeting.
"Sister."
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its voice rang, smooth and sharp as polished glass, layered in an unsettling harmony, as though countless voices whispered in unison behind it. "You know why I'm here. Our siblings want their answer."
The being of fog chuckled, a low, velvety sound that sent ripples through the stagnant air. The stillness recoiled at its disturbance, and mist began to seep through cracks in the floor, lazily curling towards the mirrored entity.
"And they chose you to tell me? You always come with demands, brother, but you never bring offerings. You of all people should know, that hunger, especially mind, is eternal. Why should I sate your hunger for answers when you won't do me the honor of appeasing mine?" She laughed, a deep and rich sound, yet predatory. "And yet here you are, full of demands and void of promise." The mist curled around her fingers, as she inspected them. "They should have sent Meraxos. At least he is pretty to look at."
The chair of light the mirrored being sat upon trembled, then melted into its form, swallowed by the endless reflections. It dashed through its form, lighting up pane after pane in the being's body, each showing a different scene. Many different eyes began being reflected in the panes of light that made up its existence, Each different, yet each filled with the weight of power, as their gaze settled upon the being cloaked in fog.
"They sent me, dear sister, because I am the mirrored copy of all that was seen, is seen, and can be seen." it spoke, the layers of its voice intertwining. " And all that is seen can be seen through me. Even you, sister. You address me, you address all of us."
The fog around her coiled tighter, thickening, as if trying to shield her from the powerful gazes.
"But I digress." The mirrored being's voice sharpened. " Your actions were quite detrimental to our efforts. And to me personally, last time. I'm here to remind you that crossing the divide and dislodging those so-called gods is something all of us want. And your selfish actions, devastating the world with your manifestation and unleashing your spawn, harm us all. Your usefulness is the only reason the rest of us haven't wiped you out yet, sister."
This time there was a slight menace to the entity's tone, that cut through the rising fog.
She tilted her head, the shadows of her form rippling from anger. Her presence began to grow, the mist thickening, condensing, and gathering in tendrils that slithered through the hall. her silhouette swelled, as more and more of the fog filled her being, her form expanding, depending, the emptiness within her pulling at the space around her like a hungry void. Endless arms, formless, yet unmistakably grasping, flickered in and out of existence, shifting through shadow and mist.
"You wouldn't think to dare threaten me in my own realm, would you?" Her voice dripped with mockery."Its not my fault the rift opened on your little island," she murmured, voice smooth as silk. "Or that the Convergence realm's fragile little laws couldn't even handle me.. or what I left behind."
Her mocking gaze lay upon the mirrored man, whose form assumed what could be mistaken for a smirk, and the central pane reflected her mocking smile back at her. And the air shifted. Not by her doing. The mansion groaned. The ancient wood of the floor let out a long croak, as though it had just remembered the concept of weight for the first time in eternity. Countless presences began pressing down on them as the eyes reflected within the being brimmed with power, a mere echo of their true power, but stacked on top of each other the effect was nothing short of overwhelming. As the silent, unseen weight bore down on the pocket of entropy, pressing on the edges of her domain, the gazes within the mirrored being sharpened. Some turning dangerous, some merely watching with disinterest.
The moment stretched, the floor groaning even more.
Then the shadowed figure sniffed, flicking her mist-woven wrist in what was meant to be idle dismissal. but her tone had grown slightly more respectful, with a hint of worry. "Fine, fine. I apologize for causing the gods to level your little pet project."
The pressure on the domain eased slightly.
" And I won't interfere in your little war with them anymore. happy'?"
The pressure reduced to negligible levels. most gazes within the mirrored entity grew more satisfied. At their levels, words uttered could not easily be withdrawn. Most began to disinterestedly look away from her, though some particularly hateful ones maintained their gaze.
The mirrored being gave her a polite nod, and one by one the reflections began to dim, their sight being sent back to where it belonged.
The shadowed lady tsked at the mirrored being. "I doubt that's all you came here for Isharaal." her voice was softer now, more polite. " You hardly care about the mortals enough to personally come threaten me. Nor do you care for our sibling's ego. So tell me—why are you really here?"
A crooked, fractured grin spread across the place where his face should have been.
"You know me well sister," he admitted, his voice rippling with layered amusement." Apologies for the pomp. You know how Xal'Tharos gets when it comes to mortal matters. My worshippers getting glassed wasn't much of a loss to me truly. Pretending to be a god was getting exhausting"
His fingers flexed idly, as if brushing against something unseen. Then, slowly, he lifted his hand, light bending and coiling at his fingertips, refracting, warping, until it settled into shape.
A chessboard. Not an ordinary one.
The mirrored surface of the board stretched unnaturally, shifting under the weight of too many pieces, too many paths. it was not black and white, nor was it bound by symmetry. It was vast, intricate, unpredictable— a map in a way, of something greater than the game it was meant to represent.
The shadowed figure's eyes gleamed as she lowered her gaze to her side of the board. Then, for a fraction of a moment, she paused. One piece sat slightly apart from the others, an anomaly. It should not have been there.
her mist curled in amusement, a faint hum escaping her. " How tenacious"
The mirrored being chuckled, knowing. "Mortals are full of surprises, sister. It's part of what makes them so delightful."
he plucked a piece from his side, twirling it between his fingers. its mirrored surface shimmered, shifting as though uncertain of its form, until for just a moment, it stilled. Within its polished depths, the faint outline of an older noblewoman emerged. her fair hair shone, her beauty unblemished by her age, her presence unyielding, and her deep blue eyes held a quiet force, the kind that had shaped the fates of many with a mere whisper.
The mirrored being studied it, tilting his head just slightly before finally setting it down upon the board.
The game responded. Ripples coursed through its surface, shifting countless other pieces in its wake. A rugged sailor, standing idle on the far side of the board, lurched forward, drawn into motion by the disturbance. Elsewhere another piece, one that had not yet been played, eerily similar to the dignified noblewoman, teetered on the edge of the board, on the verge of being pulled in. A satisfied smile settled on the mirrored being's reflective face.
"So what say you, Devourer'" he murmured, his voice playful. "Shall we have a game?"