Whilst all this was happening, off in the coastal city of Littorbourg nearby something strange was taking place.
On the city's outskirts, a secluded alley lay shrouded in darkness, lit only by moonlight, in stark contrast to the well-lit streets nearby.
Despite the deathly quiet atmosphere in the alley, it was not in complete desolation as figures shuttled around within it.
The figures were all draped in darkly coloured hoods that concealed both their appearance and stature.
Nevertheless, these figures soon congregated before a tattered, wooden door. One of them, presumably their leader knocked on the door, and behind the door, some shuttling around could be heard.
The peephole on the door was removed and an eye could be seen from it, as it began staring down at the group in front of the door.
After the person behind the door examined the people before him, a voice soon echoed from behind the door.
"So it's you lot... Is today the day?"
The voice behind the door was raspy and harsh, seemingly the voice of a weathered, old man.
A moment of silence hung in the air before the apparent head of the group answered.
"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't..."
The voice of the hooded figure was starkly different from the one behind the door. It seemingly belonged to a young man, yet its monotone nature made his true age uncertain.
Following the answer the door opened up and an aged figure appeared before the crowd, he had no hair and possessed a hunched posture.
"This way."
The old man gestured behind him, indicating them to follow him inside into what seemed to be a former tavern.
With a nod, the leader of the hooded figures pushed open the tattered wooden door, beckoning the rest to follow.
They stepped from the shadowy alley into the dim interior of the derelict tavern, where dust motes danced in the shafts of moonlight filtering through boarded windows
It seemed as if the building had lacked a living resident for an untold number of years.
The group trailed the elderly man through a narrow, creaking hallway. At the end of the corridor, he opened a heavy wooden door, revealing a secluded room with a thick musty scent assaulting the noses of those stepping into the room.
The room was filled with an array of items: candles burning with flames that flickered with an almost divine vitality; a sharp, serrated obsidian dagger and most importantly of all...
An altar.
At the centre of the room was an altar, its surface carved with runes and obscure symbols.
In front of the altar were various bodies scattered about. Some belonged to young men and women, others were of children.
Despite their situation, the rise and fall of their chests indicated that they were still indeed alive.
The hooded figures, each draped in dark cloaks that obscured their identities, formed a tight circle around the altar along with the old man.
One among them, the supposed leader of the group with an eerily calm voice, began the ritual with his hands clasped together by chanting many unintelligible words.
As the chant progressed, the other figures joined in, their voices layering over each other, creating a chorus that filled the room with a vibrating energy.
The air grew denser, the flames on the candles began to violently flicker and the runes on the altar blazed with a bright, unnatural light, illuminating the room with an eerie, spectral glow.
White tendrils soon extended from the altar and snaked towards the various bodies lying around. Upon linking with these bodies, the tendrils were soon dyed red as they began to pulsate.
The once unconscious people soon awoke amidst the ritual, their bodies frozen and unable to move. However, the bulging of their eyes and the streaks of tears that slid down their faces all but indicated the pain they were currently suffering.
Amid the chanting and strange phenomena taking place in the room, the young man who initiated the chanting grasped onto the obsidian dagger and made his way to the altar.
Making an incision on his left hand, black blood dripped from his hand onto the altar.
The ground beneath everyone's feet soon vibrated slightly. Yet, ignoring the shaking of the ground the man soon began chanting a new set of words.
"In the name of rot and ruin, we call thee forth, O dire harbinger of plague! Let thy breath, laden with death, taint this world. May thy virulent touch spread decay, corrupting flesh and fouling earth. Rise from the shadows of the subspace, and unleash thine unholy pestilence!"
The man's voice which was once laced with apathy now took on a fanatical tone, as he clenched his bloody hand in anticipation.
Whilst this was taking place, a crimson line scarred the night sky above. With every passing moment, the line kept widening and expanding.
As a certain threshold seemed to have been reached, something deep within it seemed to be trying to leave...
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
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Back in the village, the bright white light emitted by the massive tree soon began to fade.
Motes of light soon congregated together from the fading brilliance of the tree and soon before the stalwart figure of the tree a faint silhouette materialised.
It was a woman.
With long, silver hair that cascaded down her back and deep, amethyst eyes. Her ghostly form seemed partially transparent as he hovered in the air.
She looked around her surroundings before locking onto the figure of Claude lying down on the tree.
Knitting her brows she spoke out her thoughts, "Strange... Why was my residual consciousness awakened...? Why do I sense the presence of those subspace scourge...? And... why is there a child here? "
Her voice was a combination of both elegance and authority. If Claude was awake, he would most certainly consider this woman to fit most people's fantasies of a princess.
Waving her hand before her, the stars in the night sky briefly shone as a stream of light flowed from them into the woman's head.
"Ah... I see... 5,000 years have passed since that day..."
Her face echoed a sense of realisation, however, this was undertoned by a heavy sense of melancholy at the ruthless passage of time.
Looking back at Claude a thoughtful look crossed her face, "This child... It looks like I was right in leaving this part of my power here..."
However, her thoughts were soon interrupted.
Off in the distance, the sky above became torn as a crack formed within it; which soon began to bleed a crimson, red energy.
From this tear in the sky, a monstrous tentacle emerged dwarfing the massive tree beside the woman, as it pulsated and seemed to be constantly shifting in colour.
Following the emergence of the tentacle, haunting whispers soon followed the arm from within the crack as the world around it began to distort.
Grass and flowers beneath it didn't simply wilt; they decomposed at an accelerated rate, turning to blackened slime within seconds, as though time itself hastened to decay in its presence.
Streams and rivers that flowed near its path began to flow backwards, their waters turning a murky, poisoned shade of green.
Fish floated up dead from within the water, their bodies bloated and distorted.
Other creatures in the area soon began to mutate into horrific aberrations, gaining extra limbs, growing more eyes around their bodies and more.
Some of these abominations even began fusing with nearby creatures, creating an unholy chimeric nightmare.
A solemn look took over the woman's face as she looked at the entity trying to cross through the crack and the chaos spreading all around her.
"Why is He here...?! No... Is this perhaps just an avatar...?"
Her tense face relaxed as she realised that the thing before her was merely an avatar.
'This should just be an avatar... If it was Him, His mere presence should have already eroded the physical world...'
Whilst she contemplated the situation at hand the movement of the tentacle paused, and then, as if it sensed something it began to writhe in agitation.
It didn't take long for the giant tentacle to press towards the woman, attempting to crush her.
In response, the woman merely waved her hand, from which a resplendent white light burst out. The light soon coalesced into radiant chains of light that soon shot towards the tentacle in the sky and bound it.
As the chain came into contact with the tentacle, the limb began to melt away and the creature itself seemed to be suffering some unimaginable pain as the tentacle began to thrash around.
Had the monstrous appendage thrashed around any closer to the ground, the very earth would have been torn asunder by its violent movements.
Yet as the dark appendage dissolved into nothingness, so too did the woman begin to fade.
After completely evaporating the arm, the chains of light soon snaked towards the crack in the sky above and began to wrap around it.
As it did, the hushed whispers that leaked out of the crack began to quieten down and the crack itself began to mend until it had disappeared from the sky.
The world around it soon returned to normal, though, if one ignored the dead fish floating along the river.
The fading figure of the woman turned around and glanced at Claude who remained in deep sleep whilst a soft smile adorned her face.
"I don't seem to have much time left... Let's hope you can fulfil the dreams that I and so many others had tried so many years ago..."
Whilst her figure began to fade away, the tree that Claude rested on also began to disappear and fade away.
With her powers, she gently moved Claude onto the ground.
Taking one last look around her, the woman smiled as she thought to herself, 'A truly beautiful world... Let us pray that it shall remain this way...'
Following her words, the chains she had summoned prior shot towards the earth, entangling the newly created abominations scattered about.
When the last creature dissipated, the chains disappeared and so did the mysterious woman.
As the woman disappeared, the tree soon morphed into a ball of light and flew into Claude's body.
Following this, silence enveloped the area. The only sign of life... Claude, who remained oblivious to what had just occurred; as he lay down on the soft grass in a deep slumber.
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People all over the world woke up amidst their slumber as they felt a stinging emotion in their chest.
Individuals in Francia... in Marduk... in Xi... in Assur...
They all seemingly felt at a loss over their sudden waking. They seemed to feel as if they had lost something important... As if they had just left the comforting embrace of their mother...
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Within a strange space, where there was seemingly nothing except a sea of crimson energy.
Suddenly, shadow figures emerged out of nowhere, varying in size greatly. Some were as large as planets, others even smaller than a person.
As if sensing something, these figures glanced at something in front of them and grew increasingly agitated.
In front of these creatures, sat a small tear in space.
From within the tear in space, one could vaguely make out the appearance of a human city...
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In an office, sat a middle-aged man. He had piercing green eyes, black hair with a few silver ones streaking through it and a well-kept beard of similar colour.
Despite it being night, he was writing something on a piece of paper that sat on his desk with slight illumination given to him with some candles decorating the room.
However, he suddenly paused and looked up as if sensing something.
"A subspace invasion...? Do these cultists ever rest?"
Tapping his finger on his desk, the man spoke to himself with a frown marring his face.
"And what is causing these palpitations in my chest..? "
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Back in the city of Littorbourg, the group of cultists looked at each other blankly at the result of their ceremony.
'Nothing?! Why did nothing happen?!'
Following the completion of the ritual, the rumbling of the ground ceased along with the radiance of the altar. All that was left were the withered corpses that lay around the altar due to the ritual.
"Did one of you mess up the ritual? Damn it! Do any of you understand how difficult it is to find this many living sacrifices?"
The old man looked across the hooded figures before him, his hands clutching the sparse hair decorating his scalp as he questioned them.
"If we need to do this again, we'll be at an even greater risk of being caught... I've already lost three hideouts to keep this undercover...!"
Not hearing an answer, the old man continued ranting as he thought of how all that effort had gone to waste.
"You don't need to worry about this, I'll contact the sentinel and try to see where we went wrong. If necessary, I'll ask for backup to ensure all goes well next time..."
The voice of the supposed leader of the group draped in hoods sounded in response to the old man's complaints.
Upon hearing the word 'sentinel', fear briefly flickered in the elderly man's eyes as he settled down.
"Aye... But this must be the last time. Those inquisitor b*stards must have been already dispatched to investigate the missing people in the city... I can only find more people for the ritual once everything has settled down... It may take at least a year..."