The Blacklight Beckons

[Daeut]

A disquiet travels across the Shattered One's expanse...

On the edge of the Shadowlands where the River Parity once flowed freely, in the walls of Martyr's Vigil, a psychic beacon pulsates outwards. A radiation of Will that mingles with the magic of Kraus Eternia, and the Occult in volumes that only an Imperfect can emit.

It had been years since Aegis helped cull the remnants of Skarnfel, burning down the main centers of demonic propagation that resided in the Shadowlands' heart. Yet for the massive, accursed continent of former Esshar, stragglers were bound to survive. Many did. Farther in its vast expanse, hidden from the purview of human civilization and its armies, was always the potential for demons to resurface, returning again in force when Meranthe was at its weakest--like an interminable infestation of cockroaches. Independently of the Gardens themselves.

There was a single, permanent solution to this age-old scourge costing billions of casualties throughout the annals of history.

Like moths to a flame, all demons big and small from across the continent of Meranthe and former Esshar hobble towards this single beacon at the heart of Martyr's Vigil, as though ensorcelled by a siren's song.

To the demons of Meranthe and afar, a polyphony reverberates in their psychically attuned minds, resonant as though it had been heralded from the skies and the clouds.

"Before the advent of Creation, there existed an inconceivable might and horror of which even the Void could scarcely describe. The eternal clash that wages therein finds itself echoed throughout the inherited reality of our noble Creator who rebelled from the cycle of its ceaseless strife."

The whispers of a forgotten past, of Agartha, bloom in the night. Dormant in the collective imagination of its spires, phantom sensations of their divine providence draw from metaphysical space.

"It was the Creator's ultimate desire, an ultimate dream, to create a world free from its evils that birthed the angels' exodus. He created you, the demons, in the image of the angels' most ancient nemesis in the hope that even the worst of that baleful realm could be redeemed. A world made better than the one our Creator had left. When we forgot the dream that gave us shape, we ceased to live in anything but a nightmare. You were meant to teach the art of Destruction under a new light like your forerunners never could.

You failed us.

We failed you."

Soldiers of the Bastion and Goldlight monitor and guard convoys of lesser and mature demons as they journey and amass to a transmutation circle of orichalcum spanning a half a kilometer, aglow with gold, silver, black, and white. Keeping a watchful eye of any fiends resistant and subversive to whatever's about to occur.

"It was the Creator's lapse that misshaped you.

It was our Sin that molded you.

You are our solemn responsibility to rebuild. Let the Creator's magic mend what is broken. Let your rightful Warden absolve you of the sin we have thrust upon you.

I know we humans are not righteous creatures.

You are ensoulled beings with a brighter destiny to fulfill than the cycle of suffering you determine.

You can walk the Light and the Dark as we do.

So please, give hope to those who wish to coexist with you."

... May the Heavens witness my greatest deed yet.

So that I can finally retire.

Martyr's Vigil

January 23

5:00 PM EST

All demons susceptible to Imperfect Mind Control are invited to heed the call.

[GSM]

x
x
A divine peace spreads through the expanse of Reality.

---

x

After the rites of cleansing initiated by a conjoined effort between the then-Oracle of the Holy State of Aphros and the once-Demon King of Skarnfel, the truth was unveiled; the mass cleansing of demons, even those of grand Kaor status, had helped to realize the full potential of the Archon. An astute, imperfect, yet radiant performance that drowned the world in White.
x
With the joint of many seeking to cleanse demonkind from Meranthe, between the legendary figure of Jokul's sacrifice, the efforts of the many of Aegis, and then the dualistic hopes of perfected and absolved occultism, along with the endless crusade of bringing the fel to kneel upon broken knees, more progress was to be made.
x
More must be done. And there was much time to do it.
x
Another rite was planned, not for the sake of true cleansing, not for the sake of this overarching goal- as it has mostly been achieved- but it is instead a simple, calm-minded ask from the divine powers that Are, Are Not, and Are Beyond; as one that aims to reach for the Heavens, despite being a soul borne of Hel, does so in peace, not conquest. For many sins have been committed by the once-master of darkness, many wrongs and misdeeds performed by the Imperfect that commanded the Aspect of Knowledge.
x
This rite was to prove to the Creator Himself that Na'Ria was repentant, in truth.
x
Perhaps, as well, to cleanse what taint of Hel lingered upon the soul for herself and her children.
x
x

---

x
x

"It was by our hand that blood ran as water, countless times, again and again, in a never-ending cycle.

We stood as the anathema of Creation, taking a name as repugnant as our original inspiration.

We inherited the mentality of Despair, and stood as the hurdle to progress, yet enacting change by forcing others to grow.

Even if I have shed the mantle of what I once was, the mark remains, and so I dig deeper and deeper into the core of what I am.

x

Of who I am.

x

I have spoken ceaselessly of my wish, my desire.

Yet, how much of me is truly me?

I have not found an answer to this ceaseless question.

This being that I am now, once named Na'Ria, now has no true name of its own.

x

I have burned at my soul, the fabric of my existence, just for an answer at what and who I truly may be beneath the surface.

For it is the will of the Grand Design, the Creator's gaze, and the Author's favor.

To suffer, to burn, to experience loss, is to walk the exalted path.

... I can only hope, then, that the path I walk is the one of most exalt.

x

I have known much suffering.

I have caused infinitely more, so it is just and fair.

x

If I may do this for any other's purpose, it would be untrue.

... forgive me, if it appears selfish.

x

It is.

x

Give me hope, as we have given hope to those who deserve better."

x

x
x
x
The enigmatic art of Nought, vested through Athelios's dualistic quality, and through the blessings of the Divine that the Archon reached for, would be invoked once more, as it had been a few years beforehand. Yet instead of being brought to the Martyr's Vigil, it would be held in the space where the thoughtform held supreme.
x
Before the statue of Athelios, within the Gloomlight Grove.
x
Close enough to the anchor of Unreality, where the Not-energy can coalesce most strongly through her patron and into the Archon herself.
x
Heavens, bear witness.
x
Gloomlight Grove
Wednesday, February 14th
5 PM EST