The Rift OpensThe air split like cracking bone.Reality tore itself apart behind Ethan, birthing a swirling vortex of writhing black and crimson light.The battlefield jerked, as if the very laws of gravity had paused, either in worship or in terror.A new presence had arrived.And it was watching.Before he saw it, Ethan felt the shift. An energy pulse that made the abyss tend away.As he gripped his sword tighter, a slow pressure, viscous and monstrous, seeped from the rift, curling the spine like a whisper of death.Even the figure in the hood, the architect of so much pain, paused.Then from the void a hand appeared.Not like the viney brutes of the abyss, nor the squiggly tentacles of the Whohnthe.This was something different.A hand impossibly perfect, impossibly human, dressed in silver rings and covered in eiderdown, shadow-like tattoos that warbled like constellations.And then he stepped through.The Arrival of the King (that he eclipsed)As he stepped out fully into the f

The Space Between Life and DeathEthan floated.Weightless. Silent.Suspended in the infinite black between existence and oblivion.His body was gone, shed like an old husk.What was left was something different.Something unfinished.A resounding voice echoed through the void. Smooth.Cold. Familiar."Still fighting, even now?"Ethan’s mind stirred.His soul was heartlessly chained, rattling now, deep and powerful and dark-run purgatorial energy coursing through it, each pulse sending blinding pain clean through him.Then he saw him.Silver eyes fall like dying stars of the Eclipsed King at the center of all the void.Ethan’s teeth clenched, battling against the pain, summoning himself his shape flickered, uncertain, a golden glow fighting against the black webbing that invaded his arms.“You’re in my head,” Ethan rumbled, his voice hoarse. "Get the hell out."The king just tilted his head and smirked."Oh, Ethan. This is not your head anymore.”The abyss shook.And with that, Ethan

The sky bled ruin.Colors with no place in this world twisted through the heavens, putrescent violets and rotting blacks that twisted like wounds in the seat of reality.But the battlefield, already a Sargasso Sea of lost flesh and cracked subsoil and the hush of final embers, trembled under something formless, merciless, only hungry.Asha stumbled, dragging a streak of blood from her brow, the air heavy with the decay that made her lungs hurt. Cain was still rising to his feet, his sword a useless tremor in his shaking hands. Raven, always the specter, had already melted into the dark, cold and observing. Calculating.And then there was Ethan.Or what was left of him.He stood at the center of the slaughter, his body cloaked in writhing coils of silver and black, his eyes those twin eclipses alight with something beyond human understanding. He avoided looking at his friends. He did not acknowledge their pleading, horrified stares.He was staring into the face of the Warden of Ash.A

The world had ended.And yet worse was already on the way.Asha was breathing hard and scrambling up off the ground, the field of battle a tangled, unrecognizable wreck. Colors that didn’t exist churned in the sky above, the very air shredding itself as if in rebellion against reality itself.The Nameless Choir, by contrast, had smashed the order of things to flinders, a song out of tune digging into the very bones of reality and unraveling them, one thread at a time.Yveth loomed a thing of infinite hunger, its zillions of teeth grinding together as it feasted upon the world itself. But now even it hesitated, its impossible form quaking under the weight of something even it could not comprehend.Ethan, or what's left of him, stood recklessly before it. And the voice it was speaking in strange languages, a new tongue he once knew, but each word had been swallowed whole, replaced by the buzz of death, the rumble of hell.Asha had witnessed him cheat death before. She had witnessed him

Darkness bore down on the world.It wasn't lack of light. It wasn't even the press of shadow.This was more than that. This was old. A hollow that didn't just devour it recalled.And Asha was suffocating in it.She tried to breathe, her lungs spasming, but there was nothing only the overwhelming feeling of being observed. The battlefield was gone. The Architect of Graves was gone. Raven, Cain, and Yveth all gone to the black.But Ethan remained.Somewhere.She could not see him, could not hear him, but she felt him like a distant, fading heartbeat being consumed inch by inch.And the throne.The thing seated upon the throne.It breathed through the darkness."Did you think you were the first?"Asha gritted her teeth, pushing her feet onto something nearly solid. The emptiness writhed beneath her, curving in slow, ravenous spirals. The scream that had ripped through reality a moment before still rang in her bones. It had been more than sound it had stripped something from her, something