[93rd Shadowfall of the Void Cycle]
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Current Location:
[Conclave of the Perennial Kronodistort]
[Held in the Ætheric Fold of the Inveigled Nexus]
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> The conclave is called the Inveigled Nexus of the Aeonic Unseen. It convenes during a temporal phenomenon known only as the Kronodistort Epoch, a time when the fabric of reality itself is skewed—stretching and collapsing without rhyme or reason. To the uninitiated, the Kronodistort Epoch occurs at bewildering intervals, marked by neither celestial alignments nor mortal calendars, leaving many to question whether the event truly exists within the same continuum. For those bound to the Nexus, however, it is an inevitable summons, one that occurs "precisely at the Phantom's Meridian," though none can ever describe exactly when that is—only that they are compelled to attend.
— a Zeldritzonian Scholar
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The expanse left behind exploded, echoing through the derelict zone, as a six-legged behemoth entered. Clad in skeletal armor, with swords glinting in their scabbards, the creature's beetle-horned visage loomed ominously. It trotted from a ruptured portal, its sturdy equine form surveying the shadowy figures gathering in the same desolate plane. The aura here felt unpleasant, an eerie unlike battlefields.
"Brigran... Eons, isn't it?" A voice, silken yet jagged like shattered glass, rippled through the silence.
Brigran's gaze fell on a wicked yet bewitching creature. She sat on a curled, gnarly throne, resembling a myriapod that coiled ever-so-slightly in the guise of a goblet. Her obsidian, wooden-clad armor rose like a crown at her collar, partially concealing her mouth. Her lilac locks of hair draped from within and outside its interior, coiling around the arms of the chair, almost resembling the tendrils of the giant centipede it mimicked.
Her black and purple armor gave her the look of a chitinous noble with sharp shoulder plates, and an additional plating that encircled her head as though it were a mask. She was a part of the plantoid Zeozon family and had a title to back up her claim, one that was earned over countless years—the Violet Queen, also known as the Nightmare Belladonna.
Her name was Gheja, another Omega. Formidable as Brigran. The two have encountered each other in many of these conclaves.
"Yes, old friend, I remember the last one," he said, his voice like that of a rock rolling down a mountain, low and gruff, "and all the times before that."
Gheja reached for her helmet's chin. The veil folded in, and she lifted it. She gazed with dark purple eyes as she spoke, "It seems a good amount has made it."
Her voice was distorted and sounded as though it was coming from an abyss of endless despair, as she addressed Brigran in an arrogant, demeaning way. Her eyes locked on him, showing her pride.
Brigran surveyed the scene, noting the many familiar faces he'd seen many times before, and a few he hadn't. He snorted in derision as he spoke. "As it always is. As it always will be."
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
There was no use in dwelling on the past, he knew. Each and every time a conclave occurred, the past was set in stone, no matter what any of them might wish.
Brigran turned away from her gaze.
There was another behemoth here who caught Brigran's attention. An amorphous, translucent mass with an oblong head like that of a squid's, it hovered within a whirlpool of darkness.
This being, it had no name that was uttered to any who asked. This was the creature known as the Chromatoscourge. Its very form seemed to be an illusion of shadows, swirling about itself as it appeared to have been locked within the whirlpool of darkness it resided in. Its form was an abyssal being, a being who controlled all the colors of darkness, an eerie presence of dread. It was like a blight that sought to swallow any and all light around it.
"Hehe, still baring ill-will toward that one?" asked the Violet Queen as she looked up toward him with an amused look upon her face. She snickered in amusement and satisfaction. She was the only one who knew of this matter, and she didn't care for any other opinions regarding it.
Brigran ignored her, and shifted his gaze to a ghastly fox. This youngster appeared to be a newcomer to the conclave, its groomed, silver coat standing out against the somber backdrop of the domain. Its vibrant eyes sparked with a vitality that seemed out of place among the seasoned Ωs gathered there.
As Brigran continued to observe the newcomer, he noticed two other foxes levitating beside the young one. They were smaller, yet older, wiser, and exuded an air of authority that the young fox lacked. The trio seemed to be conversing in hushed tones, their tails flicking with excitement and anticipation.
Brigran's curiosity was piqued as he wondered about the significance of these foxes. Were they allies, rivals, or something else entirely? He made a mental note to keep an eye on them throughout the conclave.
The Violet Queen caught Brigran's gaze and followed it to the fox. "Ah, a young one," she mused. "It seems we have a new player in the game."
Brigran grunted in response, his attention still fixed on the Yitxunian fox. There was something about the creature that drew him in, an energy that felt both familiar and unknown at the same time.
The footsteps of another armor-clad monster was heard behind the two. This monster walked with purpose in his gait, his eyes scanning the other Ωs around. He had been in previous meetings and had grown tired of their incessant squabbles, even going so far as to dismiss them outright. His pristine armor and draconic features made him stand out against the rest, as he carried the aura of a proud general.
His name was Zeddrex. He was an armor-clad warrior with a billowing mane. He wore a helm with an intricate pattern etched in the front of it, a mask that obscured his face from prying eyes, and two sharp horns adorning its sides. The armor that encased him was similar in its design, with patterns of an ancient draconic script adorning every single plate. He bore no weapon on him, as he considered this conclave an annoyance that needed to be addressed.
He looked over the conclave and the familiar faces among them and let out an irritated huff as he walked towards the two, stopping at Gheja's right.
"It seems all of us have gathered yet again," said Gheja.
She surveyed the assembled Ωs before turning toward Brigran once more.
"Except for Lorgagore," said Gheja as she gestured toward the vacant seat next to Brigran, "it seems like the abominable warlord is busy."
Brigran glanced briefly in that direction. "That's what I've gathered as well."
Gheja leaned against her throne and snickered.
Brigran knew all about him. He knew that he was the one who had always arrived last.
"The metallic fiend is ever-lazy to make an appearance."
Zeddrex looked at the vacant seat and scoffed.
"Lorgagore...his actions will have consequences one day..."
Gheja turned just as another portal appeared. It snapped shut as the measly messenger rushed into the room. "GamaGen has perished!”
A collective flinch seized the room from such blasphemy.
Brigran's eyes then fell upon the abyssal mass of shadows swirling about as his expression became solemn and serious. Suddenly an entire realm of terror conspired to crush him, his instincts on overdrive to flee. He whirled his head to the danger, a lithe figure perched on his shoulder. The eerie being had a set of arms folded before its chest, while the set of wings lay folded against its waist. She smiled back.
"It seems the most powerful and dreadful of us all has graced us with her presence," said Gheja as she watched DeNultra ascend to the center of the assembly.
The monster's presence hushed the others. And the announcement left her curved lips. "Yes. GamaGen has perished. By yours truly~"