In the deep dark below, beyond the space where time wakens and yawns, beyond the shadows cast by the great leviathan of eternity, the Apocrea stir. Within cities where geometry and madness share meaning, constructed from thought, from unnatural impulse, the Apocrea dream dark machines into being.
Only souls keep these engines roaring, heard screaming across distant stars. Only souls can fill their void, sublime in its vast emptiness. Oh such beautiful souls! Bright and vibrant like fruit warming on the branch from a summer’s sun, longing for the pull of the earth below, the chance to seed and grow and birth anew.
What terrible naivety! What utter farce! All of them mere crops against their relentless scythe! Though they may steal sanctuary in the cracks and corners of their terrible realm, it is ever fleeting. The blinding gaze of the Apocrea is boundless.
The daylight, the starlight; all hope is merely waiting for their dark shroud to return this cosmic play to its primordial black.
Dear heavens! The stars grin down with lustful intent! It is an abomination, an embodiment of sublime beauty, dark and blooded! I weep and laugh before the shroud that waits!
Nuul-duggath, I am seared in your gaze oh Apocrea, teeming filth of ages! Nyarrlotth-MORG!
Only souls keep these engines roaring, heard screaming across distant stars. Only souls can fill their void, sublime in its vast emptiness. Oh such beautiful souls! Bright and vibrant like fruit warming on the branch from a summer’s sun, longing for the pull of the earth below, the chance to seed and grow and birth anew.
What terrible naivety! What utter farce! All of them mere crops against their relentless scythe! Though they may steal sanctuary in the cracks and corners of their terrible realm, it is ever fleeting. The blinding gaze of the Apocrea is boundless.
The daylight, the starlight; all hope is merely waiting for their dark shroud to return this cosmic play to its primordial black.
Dear heavens! The stars grin down with lustful intent! It is an abomination, an embodiment of sublime beauty, dark and blooded! I weep and laugh before the shroud that waits!
Nuul-duggath, I am seared in your gaze oh Apocrea, teeming filth of ages! Nyarrlotth-MORG!
