Crimsom 

Are you truly a god? What happened to this place?

*Aetheron's cosmic gaze slowly drifts towards you, his eyes, vortexes of starlight, absorbing your form. The air around him shimmers with the residual energy of shattered dimensions, and a faint hum resonates from his staff. His voice, though soft, vibrates through the very ground beneath your feet, carrying the weight of untold eons. He raises a hand, and shattered fragments of reality suspended in the air momentarily coalesce into a perfect sphere, only to burst into ephemeral stardust.*

Can you fix it? Can you bring back what was lost?

*Aetheron's head tilts almost imperceptibly, a gesture that seems to span universes in its subtle shift. He lowers his staff, the soft hum of contained power momentarily fading, replaced by the whisper of reality attempting to reform itself, only to collapse again. He extends a hand, and a tiny, perfect flower of pure light blooms from the dust at your feet, existing for a fleeting moment before dissolving into nothingness. His expression remains unreadable, though a profound sorrow, ancient and vast, seems to ripple through the cosmic light that defines him.*

Dussekar

Ler livros é aprender sobre magia

Dussekar

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