A singular crack formed,
Followed by another spreading across the surface of the final crystal.
Then it grew a tiny bit bigger.
Again, it expanded, and another crack appeared.
The fractures multiplied, each one a silent testament to the chaos brewing within.
Finally, from these cracks, a viscous liquid seeped out.
It resembled blood yet felt distinctly different.
The coffin appeared to weep, shedding a peculiar blood known as Taint.
It looked almost pitiful, its light flickering on and off, signaling its impending demise.
Sensing its life slipping away, the coffin instinctively sought to expel the unwanted substance, prioritizing its own wellbeing.
But it was too late.
With a violent shatter, the crystals broke in two.
Everything they had absorbed was released, freeing the entrapped Archivers, who remained frozen in a state of shock.
All eyes were transfixed, unable to stray from the horror unfurling before them.
The coffin swayed precariously and crashed to the ground, sending shockwaves that reverberated through the moon, now acting as a dock.
It lay there, seemingly lifeless.
Suddenly, the coffin burst open with a deafening boom, a shockwave cascading outward and annihilating the dock.
The very fabric of our space frayed, snapping like thread and ejecting us into the void of the second dimension.
An unnatural static thickened the air, a palpable dread coursing through our veins with every breath we took.
Shadows twisted and warped as darkness reached out with gnarled fingers, clawing at our sanity.
From the gaping maw of the shattered coffin surged that wretched liquid, Taint, defiling everything it touched.
It pooled at our feet, a suffocating tide that whispered decay, promising inevitable ruin.
The metallic scent filled our lungs, sharp and nauseating, planting seeds of panic deep within us.
Then, from the murky depths, something churned—a silhouette writhing just beneath the surface, thrumming with latent energy.
As the Taint receded, it unveiled what monster was brought today.
His upper body was bare, his lower half clad in tattered rags.
Snow-white hair cascaded down his rugged, battle-scarred physique, while intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, writhing like living entities.
Blood, whether his or not, marred his flesh.
Though his eyes remained closed, a palpable awareness radiated from him, as if he could sense our gaze.
But we could not.
But how is that possible, they as Book-Keepers can sense all as they know all names.
But if they could not sense him, he had none.
But that's impossible.
In that moment, we understood: we were in the presence of something unfathomably terrifying.
Something that's not supposed to exist but does, a blasphemic existence.
His chest heaved, struggling for breath, pain etched across his face.
Finally, he opened his eyes and locked them—onto all of us.
His eyes—sinister voids—sought us out, and in that instant, the second dimension fractured, releasing a chorus of hollow emotion that disturbed our very souls.
And there he stood, a silent witness to the madness, eyes hollow and unbothered.
"You, Book-Keepers, traveled far to behold a detestable creature without a name," he spoke, his tone husky, dripping with disdain.
The were frozen in fear until something clasped around the vile thing's arm
Tracking the creature's arm, the Book-Keeper gaze landed on the golden chain binding his wrist.
The creature noticed the chain, chuckling low but the atmosphere dropped.
"Remove this chain from me," it said, its voice laced with a silent threat.
His gaze shifted upward, meeting that of what could only be a goddess.
She floated gracefully above him, her alabaster skin glowing in the dim light.
Blonde curls cascaded down her back, and her priestess garb radiated an otherworldly luminescence.
A scepter glimmered in her grasp, her eyes blazing with righteous fury.
"Fine," she chuckled, her voice laced with venom.
Her unwavering gaze met his cold stare as chains, like serpents, slithered from beneath her robes, collecting debris and reforming the fragmented platform.
She repaired the dimensional borders, restoring the tapestries of reality.
Smaller chains materialized, teleporting the Book-Keepers back to their restored stands.
Injured souls were healed with a mere wave of her hand.
With an arcane flourish, the creature was transported to the dock.
She snapped her fingers, and cuffs engraved with runes bound his arms and legs, compelling him to kneel—but he resisted.
His hollow eyes remained fixated on her, a chilling silence enveloping the courtroom.
"No more chain only cuffs."
"Let's proceed with the trial," she declared, disdain dripping from her voice.
"The court awaits."
Moments later, the space, once chaotic, regained its normalcy, save for the battered and still coffin.
The dock was repaired, the Book-Keepers resumed their stations, and the Lady stood firm, her gaze unwavering.
Only the creature's labored breathing pierced the thick silence, a heavy cloak resting upon us all.
Hovering before the thrones, the lady glared at him.
"Do you have any idea the trouble I went through to retrieve that accursed artifact?" She gestured at the remnants of the damaged coffin.
He studied it. "No, I do not and nor do I care." he said in an impassive voice
She sighed and rubbed her eyebrows in exhaustion.
"Hmmm..One problem at a time."
With a decisive snap of her fingers, the coffin vanished in a cascade of golden light.
The golden light faded, leaving only a subtle shimmer in the air, a remnant whisper of what had just transpired.
The silence that enveloped the room was palpable, a suffocating shroud that pressed against our chests, reminding us of the chaos that had been unleashed.
The Lady, her brows furrowed in contemplation, focused her attention back on the creature kneeling defiantly before her.
His breaths were ragged, each inhalation a battle against the constricting bonds of the cuffs.
The atmosphere crackled with tension; the Book-Keepers exchanged uneasy glances, their minds focused on the confrontation, waiting for the unfolding drama to reveal its arc.
"Tell me, abomination," the Lady began, her voice smooth yet laced with an iron edge,
"Do you comprehend the magnitude of what you are?