AN: You really shouldn't read this if you value quality in any way shape or form.

-Vox

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The Great King Abaram I had done the, hereto thought, impossible.

He had nigh-single-handedly united the Six Kingdoms under a single banner, His banner.

However whilst the soldiers and common-folk celebrated, The Great King was paying the price of his achievement; For Abram, as great though he was seen, was at his heart of heart a proud and haugty man who thought he could bind and control forces and beings far, far beyond his feeble comprehension. For this was the secret of his success, in his youth he had found an ancient and forbidden text that spoke of beings of great power to whom the greatest armies of Vauma could do naught but fall at the slightest twitch of a finger; The text spoke of rituals with which to commune with these great and powerful beings, rituals to bind them to the user and to utillise their power.

And thus, the yound and naive Abram commited the rituals, hands dirtied with innocent blood and heart filled with dreams of domination of the Kingdomssland in his iron fist.

Upon completing the ritual Abram felt... nothing.

No great noise.

No blinding lights.

No obscuring smoke.

Until, when Abram was just going to discard the rituals as simple lies; There came a voice.

The voice whispered to Abram of power unimaginable, of fulfilment of wildest dreams.

Its honeyed words acted as key to the already barely restrained greed in Abram, and he immidiately set upon binding the summoned entity with a deal.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"The power to grasp all you will can be yours, young Vaum, but all things have their price. Mine is but a simple one, a single favour within your power to be collected at a later time..."

In his foolish arrogance Abram immidiately signed himself to the deal, discarding thoughts of the vagueness of the price in favour of imagining all the world layed before him, clouding his judgement.

And thus, Conquest and war raged acros the Kingdomssland. Abram's newfound charisma ensured no end of conscripts to his millitia, and later his army. To all his followers, Abram's facade of wisdom and courage was as truth, not even the closest advisors seeing his true face nor the devil at his shoulder.

However, on that final night, a night of celebration, Abram and the world both paid his price. He was made to act as the conduit and medium of a great  working of magic. The foreign power swept over and through the world, elation turned to panic as great cracks apeared in the land as the planet's crust broke apart and drifted away to hover over the planet and millions died in the following days and weeks as the monsters came. The only survivors were those whi by fluke or choice were hidden in places unreachable by the primal monsters.

As time passed, the event came to be known as The Great Shattering and its origin never found. At the time, the true implications were not yet even understood, as this was the event which introduced magic into the world.

Thus goes the story of one arrogant man, who destroyed the whole world as it was known.