A rupture in space cracked open the surrounding landscape of Adramadeus.
The spatial wormhole collapsed everything in its vicinity, rending the land for thousands of miles before finally solidifying into a stable gate. From its depths, Nekeili's soul-form was forced out and cast into a decimated crevice—land that had once been fertile and teeming with life, now barren and broken beyond recognition.
His soul pulsed with the same runes and symbols that had once appeared on his nape in the void. Slowly, those symbols revolved around his incorporeal form. Then they accelerated.
Faster.
Faster still.
The spinning runes began to affect the air around him, twisting it into a vortex that howled across the wasteland. What little organic matter remained in the devastated region was drawn inward, pulled apart and reassembled as raw material.
The vortex used it all as building blocks.
Cell by cell.
Bone and sinew.
Tissue and muscle.
Blood and skin.
A shockwave erupted, blasting dust into the heavens. In the next instant, everything was drawn in—earth and mineral, metal and microbe, bacteria and lingering fragments of life itself.
Then silence.
Soft breathing followed.
There, lying naked in the center of ruin, was a young man—frail, weak, and unaware of the life that awaited him. A life that would break him in more ways than one.
Such is the path of madness.
Chaos reigned across Adramadeus.
For thousands of miles, the residual effects of Nekeili's rebirth had destroyed countries and cities alike. Nations filled with hundreds of thousands perished in moments. Hundreds of thousands more would follow. Woe and sorrow for the dead—purgatory for the living.
Kings and peasants alike cried out in agony. On that single day, all were united by one truth:
Loss.
They wanted vengeance. They wanted answers.
And so, those who remained turned their eyes toward the massive gate that had permanently altered their world.
The most powerful beings of the continent used high-level spatial artifacts to gather at a neutral ground—an ancient meeting place reserved for the strong. It was home to a long-standing coalition of men and women, beasts and monsters, giants and smaller races alike—names that shook the foundations of continents.
Even with All their might, they convened for only one reason, To know the cause.
Why?
How?
Why had this happened?
They each cried out.
Each of them had suffered. Many stood missing limbs and pieces of their bodies. The mighty regenerated slowly, their potent life force restoring flesh and bone to perfection.
Others were not so fortunate.
Those less fortunate relied on rare life-saving potions, watching helplessly as loved ones died before their eyes, unable to grant them the limited stock of high level health potions they had used up on themselves, it was the reality for most that arrived seeking answers.
They seethed. They roared.
They demanded guidance—a path upon which to vent their grief.
Then a man stepped forward.
A man nigh invincible.
In a single instant, he appeared in the air at the center of the gathering. Silence fell.
He spoke calmly, yet every word carried absolute authority. All beneath him knelt.
They were powerful in their own right. But before him, they were nothing more than clay—mud to be molded or crushed at his will.
One of the many demi-gods across the thirty continents of Adramadeus.
The ruler of five continents—two of which had been crippled by Nekeili's rebirth.
Ionis
The Demi-God of Metal and Blood.
His gaze swept across the kneeling masses.
"Find the source. Discover what has pierced our world. What has connected us to the Abyss."
His voice hardened.
"That gate is a permanent passage into the Void. It must be understood… and it must be closed."
The air trembled as his presence deepened.
"I, Ionis, Demi-God of Metal and Blood, order every being beholden to me—investigate and report back. I will personally visit the gate in a few weeks' time. The other demi-gods will learn of this soon enough. I must ensure they neither attack nor conspire against me."
A pause.
"Do not fail me, now go." Ionis spoke
They rose as one.
Each of them struggling not to scream out in anger, or disrespect their Lord in fear of his retribution, each of them needed more than just a order, yet they all complied.
"Yes, Demi-God!"
One by one—and then all at once—they departed.
All but a select few.
Those who stood at the precipice of demi-godhood. His most trusted elites,
They remained to discuss the coming days.
One man, still kneeling spoke out "my lord Ionis, forgive me for being so blunt, but you made a mistake sending them away so quickly to investigate, they needed you to ease their hearts, many were dissatisfied by your decisive order".
Ionis looked at his vassal, and slowly descended from the air, "Markus, you speak true but I don't have time to micro manage their trauma, I need to move fast, that gate is a ticking time bomb".
All eyes turned toward the distant gate.
They attempted to divine its origin, its purpose. Some tried teleporting directly to the site—but failed.
Ionis already knew why.
Even he could not teleport or fly within a thousand miles of that gate. The laws leaking from the Void were alien, hostile—an entirely different order of existence. Even for him, they were not easily controlled.
Frustration flickered across his face, but he spoke no further.
His command had been given. It would be followed.
For a final moment, Ionis stared toward the gate that had scarred his continents, his sight obscured by the void gate, but still extremely powerful, enough so, that he had to look away, all the devastating damage done to his lands, it was too much, even for him.
Then he vanished.
Pressure was coming.
And the world of Adramadeus would never be the same.