Not all things have dawning or limitation. Some remain endless, ageless, a vortex of substance, interwoven as tightly as fine Egyptian cotton… Threads of existence that will forever be transfused in a fabric of incalculable time. Both a beginning and an end that will remain infinite. Life, love, death, the Uroboros forever feeding upon itself...
Heavens only emissary has been drawn to this arctic wasteland in search of an age old monument, summoned here by a passion she has not felt for an aeon. Its precise source eluding her yet filled with a familiar but unfamiliar love.
Such a simple word is love. Yet equally complex an entity, in that Mortals, Angels, even Gods are not immune to the musical ensemble of notes it writes continuously across the stave of existence. Long ago she was once in love, a time that bore her two children. Now only solitary isolation remains after timeless servitude to the heavens. Love, not lost to her in its entirety, the love for her children remaining infinite, but her own affections shifted by the sands of time to a new perspective. The love she has now, only for the unfortunate souls she forever watches over and protects on this forsaken planet.
Still beckoning on the horizon of her solitude, change lingers in wait.
Not since her ascension to the heavens has she experienced an emotion so pure with such conviction. What ever this calling of heartfelt sentiment may bring to light, she has been drawn to this realm of frozen desolation to seek answers.
Beneath her feet a pristine microcosm of the solar system mirrors the celestial bodies in the heavens above. The six planets in perfect harmony, moving in unison with the precision of finely tuned clockwork around the golden orb of Solaris, radiating the warmth and light that maintains life.
In contrast to the serenity of these celestial spheres, rising from the ice before her stands the very reason she is here.
The Vestibule of Uroboros...
Built in tribute to Gods, now fallen and forgotten to the frost of this wasteland, this portal to countless realities is capable of turning the tides of war and altering paths of histories as yet unwritten. Continuity is of no consequence, this ancient monument born of technology from beyond the stars, able to tear the sinews of time and reweave its threads into newborn realities. Changing timelines, destinies, even the fates of worlds.
During its construction the Biotechonic core of this shrine was infused with the dark souls of three ancient prophets. Each viciously murdered for their forbidden love of a Goddess, their souls torn from their bodies by the God Zian and imprisoned within the Uroboros for eternity. Their names now lost to the world but their corrupt minds remaining ever present within this sanctuary of lunacy. The prophets three effigies forever keep watch over the portal entrance their eyes bound from the sights of this world, yet their minds forever open, their knowledge of foresight and time, limitless and unequaled.
Centuries have driven their souls to madness imprisoned within a perpetual loop of endless time, their eternal damnation facilitating in breaching the restrictions of methodical physics. Her arrival here is but destiny playing out its cycle, her name fixed in archaic text above the portal entrance. They have watched the stars for her coming, they have waited, and now finally she is here. They sense her deepest desires, her darkest fears, her absoluteness, and they have answers to that which she seeks.
Every fiber of her being is alert as the continuous chattering of the prophets fills her ears, the sound like that of a thousand locusts simultaneously taking flight, the resonance almost intolerable, yet she remains serene. In response to her calmness she is presented with an apparition looming above the gaping yaw of the Uroboros and the bound vision of the prophets. The setting familiar to her as a temple of the Goddess Lucidia, the figure at its center humanoid, its body stripped of flesh, barely alive and bound by the same technology responsible for this spectral vision. This tortured soul as defined by the prophets, unquestionably the source of her calling. The clairvoyance of the three prophets of the Uroboros has proved invaluable, she now knows where this journey will take her.
Advancing towards the ancient monolith of Biochronic technology her silver wings outstretched to bathe in the rays of the forever arctic sun, she walks with the grace and stealth of a stalking feline. Each step inexplicably defining her natural beauty as she defiantly approaches the looming spire of madness rising from the timeless dominion before her.
As she gathers her thoughts in preparation to pass through the open portal, a sigh escapes her lips as she studies the vision of divination before her. The decision to adorn her armour upon her slender shoulders proving wise, for other than her black as night leather boots it is the only clothing she wears. In extension to her armour, trailing behind her, two interlocking chains cast from the molten slag of the last gate of Gehenna, the chains consummating in razor edged blades, a gift for her covert services during the last great campaign. Lightning fast, lethally obedient, deadly accurate and tuned to her thoughts alone.
These are her weapons of war…
War, has both a beginning and an end. Her fight however remains endless in bringing safety to the inhabitants of this world, but at what cost to her own sanctity? Now it is not a mortal that needs her, whatever this creature is, or was, it has called for her, of that she is certain. As she approaches the threshold to this gateway of madness the insignia inked on her lower back dances with golden flames of rapture. Her Dragon Familiar stirs in anticipation of what is to come. Her thoughts weighted by the realization, she has been here before.
An ominous sensation fills her mind, the prophets imparting a final message.
All things have a time and place. Even Angels…
Kelt 2011
