In a space and time far from peering eyes, closed off from the many worlds and dimensions that exist around it, extends a beautiful Forest. It's lush green landscapes are only paralleled by the glistening emeralds that lay scattered throughout, emerging from the ground in awe-inspiring spirals, sticking from trees as if delicate fruits ripe for the picking. A once sacred land, now thought to no longer exist. At one time, it had. Creatures far and wide would come gaze upon the spectacle that was the Emerald Forest. It's magic and secrets sat deep.
But even still, among the beautiful shades of green, something breath-taking exist. Both light and darkness, beginning and end battle it out. Up top a stone slab, a lone ancient sage sits. A red dust permeates the air around him, as glowing red veins seem to grow from the stone slab that he sits upon. A long sage's robe covers the man from his neck down to his feet, that lay tucked under him as he sat. His eyes peered into great distances, a sharp red. It wasn't a red of evil, but simply of pain. The rest of his guise was hardly visible, covered under layers of coarse grey and white hairs, that stretched the top of his head, down most of his back, and from his face towards the ground below the slab. And although this forest may have been forgotten, the man that sat upon this pillar was not. His descendants dream of his face and his words. Guided by the powers of the Red Sage. His enemies and enemies of his kind dream only of the terrors that he means them.
But now, in this place, something this way stirs. a wind flows through the forest. A sharp wind. The trees creak and moan as if suddenly hit by an unrelenting force. It had been a long time since a wind had swept these lands. And for the first time in years forgotten, the Red Sage stirred. He could feel the hard chap of his lips, The dry thirst in his throat. The brittle fragility of his bones ached his body. The red in his eyes softened till becoming a deep grey blue. A gasp escaped his throat, echoing through the forest. Something was calling him. What was this? Was it a child of his? A descendant of a bloodline long forgotten? Or perhaps something much darker, more evil.
He could feel something different. A Change had come, and a new change was just beginning. One that required him to awaken from his position. The fabrics of reality were secure. But, now a new threat had emerged in his absence, but things would not be the same as before. No, all of the Multiverses had changed. He wasn't sure he'd even have friends anymore. His brothers in arms... He closed his eyes as he trickled his thoughts across the realms. He could not feel them. Even the one known as Rilla, he could not sense. Though, he could feel the treachery of his offspring.
" He finally whispered. His old friend had fallen, and in his place, the Heir to the Empire's throne had risen. How had he let this happen? He whispered names as he felt for other presences. "Aniya... Scream... Jacob... Naosie...
Phoebe... Abyssmir... Joseph... Wyatt... Athena... Dems... Sky... Terra... Ezekiel... Ro'man...
" There were many other names as well, and to him, they all meant something. Many still lived in far off universes. Others had passed on. He pondered how long he had been away, Time worked differently across the verses. So, it was truly relative. Then he pondered on what had woke him. He was unsure. But, a presence did stick out to him. A lone man, meditating in the distance. The sage could almost make out his face. He was surrounded by powerful forces. Some he recognized, oddly. Though, he wasn't quite sure how. His gaze fell once again upon the meditating man. He wasn't sure why he needed to be there, but he was sure that's where he was going.
After several grunts, something peculiar happened, the cloak of the sage seemed to rise, as the old man with it seemed to do as well. Power swirled up around the cloak, and red lighting flickered though out the Forest, in an horizontal fashion. The greys and whites of the sage's coarse hair seemed to fall away, revealing a fresh younger face. The wrinkles that gripped his eyes seemed to pull back and his skin became soft to the touch. The Blue Grey of his eyes flickered with excitement followed by a fiery red, that suddenly flushed to an emerald green. His hair was shortened, and full of red, the common color of his people. The old sage's robe fell away and under it, was a young man in a red and black armor, lined in gold trimmings. A gold V portrayed across his chest. It had been too long since he felt like this.
With a flash, he left the forest behind him, and he stood in the lobby of Liaison's Tournament, his eyes fondly searching the screens a bright smile across his face. He had finally returned. And the Entire Multiverse was sure to feel it. He couldn't hold it back anymore. He screamed a battle cry, followed by, "My Name is Astor Raeym, and I have returned!
" He glanced around briefly at all the people sure to be looking at him with peculiar gazes. The only thing that seemed to be missing now, was none other than Rilla Tsh'Rael. He'd pull the dead stiff from his cold grave and bring him back himself if he had to. They needed to continue their fight.