Fatal, the Totality
In the depths of space lies a lone crystalline structure--an obsidian octahedron the size of a small moon. It's a motionless, unmoving black spot in the night sky with no nearby star to shine upon its faces.
Atop the structure stands a lone figure, wreathed in shadows. They seemingly are wearing no hardsuit, yet are unaffected by the harshness of space. Dull, emotionless eyes peer down upon the structure below.
"Such a..."They begin walking down the structure--as if affected by its gravity, which the structure lacks.
"...sorry sight."
There's an inherent uncomfortably with the structure. The mind bends and contracts if one peers into it for too long, forgetting the feeling soon after one looks away. The figure leans over and puts their ear to the glass. A faint wailing can be heard inside--its probably best not to listen too close.
"Not even divinity provides a shelter from the end..."
A snapping of fingers is heard, and a drone escapes the shadow of the figure. They fly away from the structure, slowly, before shining a blinding light upon it. The figure is still just a silhouette, but within the glass a swirling purple mist is seen. Small disturbances are visible within it, little particles moving in a swarm-like fashion throughout.
"Just a slave to our strings like the rest of us..."
The figure taps on the glass and the mist retracts from the surface. Those tiny disturbances dance, bare without the mist, before retreating along with it. The figure places their ear upon the obsidian once more. Tazarak is weeping.
"What was it, that they had said?"
A loud roar is heard in the distance: a IPS ship has departs from blink-space, its sirens flashing and wailing. The figure begins scaling the prison, walking up the incline uncaringly. It's unclear exactly what they are--organic, inorganic, or a product of synthesis. The IPS vessel cares not, though, only that they be detained for disturbing Tazarak's prison.
"Ah, I remember now."
The figure stands at the top of the structure, balancing on a point, motionless.
"So it goes, I suppose."
And then, nothing.
It doesn't matter.
Fatal & Mortals
It doesn't matter.
Follower Factions
It doesn't matter.
//Hey, can people stop trying to edit this file. At this point it's just becoming INCREDIBLY annoying for me. I'm not getting paid by the hour and I have PLENTY of better things to do rather than restarting the gods-damned power every fucking time someone tries to add an actual entry here. No matter what we've tried, this file can't be made to say anything other than what it already does. You are wasting both you and I's time by attempting to edit it. I'm sorry that you cannot accept that this random data file will contain nothing other than what I can only assume is some EC-dropout's creative writing assignment. I don't know why it's like this, nor do I care. We're not fucking Solarians, we're not getting paid to figure out 'why'. If someone fucks with the file again, I will commit MULTIPLE felonies and likely end up in a penal colony the rest of my life. However, you will be dead, and I won't have to restart the fucking power again, so I WILL be laughing. Move on with your lives. **It doesn't matter.**
//OH FOR GODS' SA-