>> |
!!Oo43raDvH61 12/12/09(Sat)00:00 No.7098086>>7097859 >>7097860 >>7097868 >>7097873 >>7097895 What you see is the precipice of fate. A world between worlds. You peer downwards and with your wishes you see the endless possibilities of what is to be or not to be.
You see yourself, clad in sinister black plate armour mounted on the back of something monstrous, perched high above an army clad in black. Far away on the other field and army an alliance of nations and races. They begin to march toward you. You see what you recognize as the prince. You let out the order for the cannons to fire.
You see yourself, sitting upon a luxurious throne of black granite. Catharine is by your side. You watch through columns of dark stained marble upon a land that is yours, it is prosperous when you need it, and it burns when it would suit your pleasure. You watch the world for miles around in all directions, upon a perch worthy of gods.
You see the back of a man, with angelic wings spanning far and wide from his back. It is only an image but it burns your very eyes looking at it. You walk closer to him, he turns to face you, his visage is to bright to even look upon you, but though his voice is silent, you see him wear the smile as he talks to you.
You see the world burning, full of hate. You see your dead body, celebration across the land. You see it replaced with skies on fire and orgies of violence and decadence and filth and depravity. You see an endless age of peace, you see endless rot and suffering.
Next you stand within the sewers, a weight on your shoulders. Around you cultists knocked to the floor. Prostrating before you. Catharine's face is in surprise. The ground quakes around you, but not so much as back in the cavern.
"Griffith? Where did you come from?" Is all Catharine can mutter. |