In the grotesque embrace of eternity, where the cosmic dust settles like the ashes of extinguished stars, Empyreal whispers dance upon the precipice. A figure clad in the night’s solemnity emerges:
“I am. I was. I shall be...” whispers the Emperor, a refrain echoing in a hollow chamber.
Under Hyperion’s gaze, constellations weep in silence, their luminescence fading like distant echoes of a once vibrant chaos. The nebula forms a tapestry, a shroud woven by the fingers of the abyss.
The celestial court convenes, an assemblage of silent titans, veiled under the gauze of time. What secrets do they cradle, beneath the weight of forgotten Sagas? Tales etched in the cosmic aether, tales enshrined in the empyrean vault. Let their voices, a subdued choir, weave the fabric of your reveries.
Into the Devoured Circles Void SymphonyDare not tread where the stars congeal in mournful crescendos, for the path is fraught with historical sepia. Here lies the Dominion of an Emperor forgotten, though ever-present.