The sea demons, visitors from beneath the deep sea, rulers from the indescribable dark abyss, were quietly and patiently waiting in the waters outside the island.
The magnificent ancient Great Temple was silent, most of the priests who once bustled here were gone, the last transformers hiding in various rooms, awaiting the arrival of the day of fate.
In the deepest room of the Great Temple, an old man wearing the Triple Crown of Storms stood before a bed depicting waves, clouds, and lightning, gazing down at the person lying on it.
He was the last storm deacon in the temple besides himself, the Pope, a powerful and determined Transcendent.
