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[img]https://i.imgur.com/fTD5yRH.png[/img]

[color=black][b]3 MP/0 FP [/b][/color]

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There was a strange sensation, then a pop, and suddenly Orvus was upon Veradax in a thicket of dust as a fierce wind blew all around him. He could see nothing, but with a silent command the storm moved off, leaving him in blissful silence as he took in the view for the first time. He stood upon the broken remains of a sky temple, one he no doubt destroyed when the moon shattered. It now floated alone, above and endless expanse of grey and bleakness. He looked up to see Galbar, bright and blue with patches of land and green. It was a beauty he could never appreciate.

Orvus fell to his knees then and his hands stretched out on the cold stone. A single tear of light fell down his face and shattered on the floor, like glass breaking. He knew not why the tear had come, only that it had, and just like that, it was gone forever. His thoughts turned to the battle with Phystene, how he had made her scream and his promise. They would die together and if not, then he was nothing more than a lier. But such a battle would have consequences. There were other deities who were inclined to nature, to life. And they would create beings with souls, creatures he would never be able to feel or touch. Was it intentional? Did they even know the depths of their cruelty? Or perhaps… Perhaps he was simply petty. Jealous even. That they could create such life willingly and bask in it’s radiance, it did nothing but sicken him.

Orvus knew, deep down, that his purpose was to destroy. To end creation. So why go against it? No, it was time to truly embrace what he was, no more second thoughts. So his mind turned back to his siblings, and he found himself in even more questions. Would they band together? Would they come for him? His hands clenched into fists as he let the word, the dreaded word, escape his very being.

[color=black]”Yes…”[/color] For he knew, and speaking it only validated his belief.

However, his hands unclenched after the word had gone. It left him with a new perception. He would welcome them with open arms, and strangle their bodies in his cold embrace. He would make them suffer just like he suffered and if they were to kill him, he would make sure that their victory would be for nothing. He was selfish, he did not want to die, but there was a simple truth he faced. He was but one, and many they were. That meant he needed to act with precision to achieve his goals, and well out of way of prying eyes.

The god of desolation stood up, and gazed out at Veradax again. There was no better place suited for the work that needed to be done. In the quiet of the moon, where no God would willing go. 

He jumped down and began to walk.

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Orvus eventually came to a mountainous region, and it was there he found a deep, twisting valley. The mountain’s walls were jagged and sharp and rose high above his head, further encasing the valley in a deep shadow. Almost as black as night. The ground was not covered in dust here, giving way to the natural color of Veradax’s tanish soil. Large cracks ran through the dirt like ravines, but Orvus forged his own path through the winding trail until he at last came to the end. 

There was nothing there of course, no secrets or forgotten treasure, just a dead end. Never one to be disappointed with his own wanderings, Orvus had walked through the valley with purpose. Ever since the battle with Phystene, and the powers they had unleashed, Orvus had been fixated with the creation of the anglers. He had seen them with his own eyes, and he had felt their pain. Their hunger. Their insatiable appetite for souls. What had made them so special? What was it that allowed him to feel them? Their endless pain was but an extension of their being, no it did not define them.

It was their souls. They were but a rope, fraying at the ends. Unraveling, losing one’s self, one’s purpose. He had promised Phystene that they could not die until every soul was wiped from existence. He lacked the means to truly purge every soul, but he could accelerate the process. 

This gave way to a new line of thinking, upon the origin of souls themselves. From what he could remember, he and his kin were not the only ones to enter the universe, that much was abundantly clear, but there was no life then, no vessels to inhabit. So what had happened to them? Orvus widened his perception once more, opening himself so that he might see reality for what it was. He looked around but saw nothing. Veradax was a truly bleak place it seemed, even devoid of life. He looked up so that he might look to Galbar once more, but his view was obscured, however, he did see something perplexing. 

Ash. Motes of ash, silently floating past Veradax and upon closer inspection, Orvus knew what it was. The remnants of a soul, burned to ash so that it might be reborn. There was a certain poetry to it, one that could be admired but Orvus was not one to admire. So too could he see the great pyres, burning in the distance like pinpricks of light. That would need further investigation, but for another time. 

This soul ash would prove most useful for what was to come. A stepping stone for greater projects. He raised his hand, and the ground before him shook as cracks grew larger, providing the first sounds to admonish Veradax with sickening finality. From the dry earth a blackness rose, twisting and elongating at the top. It grew taller then he and had a thick base. The object began to reverberate a deep hum, and when it at last stopped taking shape, it pulsed once with a white glow. This glow seeped into the structures cracks, giving off an otherworldly glow. Before Orvus sat a tree of orvium, a monument of decay. It held no leaves, but twisting branches coming into sharp points. It was everything Phystene’s trees were not but yet so much more.

It’s purpose began upon the onset of its creation, and the soul ash from up above, were pulled into it’s mighty trunk. In time, it would bear its fruit. For this, Orvus would have to wait. It’s creation had drained him surprisingly and he was tired. Why was he so tired? Slowly, Orvus made his was to the base of the tree, and sat against the trunk. He shut his eyes as his last thoughts were what dreams would haunt him. 

[hider=Summary]

Orvus arrives upon Veradax and in the midst of a dust storm. He waves a hand and the storms buggers off. For the first time he takes in the view of his sphere and finds it sufficient.

He has a moment where he reflects upon what happened with Phystene and comes to the conclusion others will come for him.

This prompts him to start thinking about plans and souls and all that.

He finds his way to a secluded valley and creates a Monument.  

He sleeps.

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[hider=Might Expenditure]

Started With: 3MP & 0FP

-3MP For a monument of Decay

Portfolios:
10/10FP Towards Asteroids Unlock > Not Purchased
3/5 Towards Decay Unlock > Not available for Purchase.

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