Welcome to Gaia! ::

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light
-Lord Byron

Gaia's great history, the diligent researcher would find, was pockmarked by holes. Races that seemed to mysteriously disappear, kings falling with no mention of insurrection, whole sections of texts lost to some knowledge consuming void. This was simply for humanities own sake. Some things - nightmares, traumas, travesties - are best forgotten. When Gaia itself shakes off memories of its greatest trauma, one can only infer how large a bad dream the planet is repressing.

Thus, alone in its own personal plane of nothingness, broods Gaia's nightmare. A sentient mass of malice locked away since the beginning of time. A potential divinity so powerful that all gods, spirits, powers that be, and even the few powerful mortals that existed in this prehistory put aside their petty conflicts to seal it away.

They soon pushed their triumph to the back of their minds and returned to their own trivial problems. They simply forgot. The being though, could never forget.




Hate is a powerful force in the hands of an already powerful opponent. The barriers, seals, metaphysical chain, everything and anything the sprits could place on The Forgotten could not contain it. Only restrain, handicap the great being from ever unleashing its full potential. It could still stretch its awareness out to the physical world. Attempt to touch some mortal whose mind was clouded... Who craved power... Who wanted an end no matter the means... Those were the victims of The Forgotten.

They rose with power greater than they could wield. They fed The Forgotten's appetite for power. Then one by one they each failed... Failed to bring about their desires, failed to harness their strength, failed, failed, failed. In time, they too were forgotten, consumed by the being they thought would grant their wishes. A part of its alternate system, a pawn in a plan crafted in the timeless void by a creator capable of making small moves once every eternity. Forever is only a long time in out realm. To those who have been forgotten forever is every moment of every day.

Oh to sink into the empty and become forgotten

To live forever in joyous nothingness

To become the unseen god of a thousand passing moments


On the line separating existence from the rending warp of time and space sits a nexus once known as an earthy paradise. It was here that gods and mortals once again proved their imperfection, giving The Forgotten one more coal for his burning hatred. It was here on this scarred plane that one could travel to the farthest reaches of the globe by slipping through the cracks of the universe. Nobody, not even the powerful being itself, could use these cracks to freely move in and out of the forgotten prison. With that said, it was on this gate of gates where one could be closest to the Forgotten without ever realising it. As you pass these cracks it reaches tendrils of awareness towards you as if The Forgotten was a stereotyped prison beggar hoping for a scrap of food.

That scrap of food was the nth waiting mind. The perfect host to make the next move in the Forgotten's eternal chess game against entwined partners life and death. The prefect move required the perfect piece... And it did not take one such as The Forgotten who had consumed the knowledge of entire races to see the perfection of one mortal piece. Infinite sons of Adam and infinite daughters of Eve could walk this Eden before another specimen as perfect as Victor Fah set foot here again.

It started as a small disturbance on the island, then grew in to what star travellers would refer to as a contained warp stone. The end result was that on one isolated region of eden time and space ripped itself apart to deposit an artefact that had graced many hands. When it was eventually be found, it was meant to be found, a ring of demons peered over the edge of the crater carved out in battle between time and the all consuming Forgotten.

Dead centre was a beautifully ornate weapon. Hilt intricately carved, highlighted with golden runes in a language no man could bring himself to remember. Runes that spoke in the laguage of the Shades, telling of all fallen Avatars to weild the blade. The purest Ivory decorated the grip inviting the hand to join in and become as clean as the ornate whiteness. A stark contrast to the deep consuming black that was the blade. Forged from the forgotten matter that spawned shades of a sealed being, the business end of the weapon consumed all light that touched it. Bleakness, blackness, void, nothingness. A weapon as freighting as it was beautiful. A weapon that cried out to the demons for the man it wanted to be held by.

Ancient Tomorrow's eyebrow cocked at the mention of Tellus. Why would she be brought here? He had thought she had given up the mantle of the Spirit years ago...never the less, he placed a hand in his pocket, fingering a small, ornate pocketwatch, before pulling it out to check the time. The thing looked like it had been through many wars and back - beaten, warped, scarred, the silver latch barely closing, the glass case cracked - but the seconds still ticking away.

"About time..." Ancient Tomorrow muttered, snapping the watch shut before returning it to it's pocket. The sooner he found the Leviathan, the sooner he could put his mind at ease.

He looked down at the girl with a short smile. "I meant in all manner of the word. A Berseker is something to be feared, especially when it is a powerful one. Tribal lore dicates that any person who goes berserk must be magically insigniated before being allowed back into the Tribe. Warning symbols, if you will, so action can be taken before they run amuck.

His smile broadened, a small look glinting in his eye. "Not that you have anything to worry about.

Ezekiel lowered his head, acknowledging what he was told. There was never a hint on his face or in his tone if he did sow ith disdain...

That man.... is not in this level of existence... as always... taking refuge in the underlying space which surrounds us... a nothingness... that I can't even begin to fathom.


Yellowed eyes stared up at Tomorrow and Ra'Kar, even as visions of Victor flooded his mind.

Footfalls were hered admist scattered ruins, even as the scampering of small things was heard at the approach of the figure.

He had been out, staring over the edge of Eden itself, simply thinking, pondering... remembering... when the wave had struck him.

The Island had visibly buckled, the epicenter throwing out a single wave of 'power' as if to signal it's very arrival.

At first he had thought that he had finally be found by those wishing to stop him, but no reports had gotten to him.

Instead, the darklings that inhabited the Island seemed most excited by the discovery of something new...

Something new... on something so old.

And here we found Victor approaching the crater...

The faint whispers of something just barely out of reach from his understanding it, yet the feeling that something was being said persisted within his mind.

Perhaps he was finally going mad.

A madness that seemed to swell and rise tenfold the closer he got to the single sword that lay at rest before him.

"And so the Gods themselves have weeped at the coming I am about to bring... Is this a gesture of acceptance then?" Victor spoke softly, even as he circled about the weapon.

He had come a long ways across the Island itself just to this spot... wondering why no one else had come, or tried to even lay claim to this thing... as if it only existed for him to see.

For him to know about.

"I will do what is necessary."

He reached out, laying a firm hand upon the grip.

"No matter the cost."

And pulled.

"Nei. You dont." He said with a small smile. "Even the most feral of beasts can be calmed by such...skjønnheten. Such beauty."

He blinked as the entire island suddenly jolted, his hammer raised ready as he looked about himself on the great hall. "Hva helvetet var det?! An attack?!"

It never occured to him that he had no idea where he was. The giant Tribal feared little now he had Slipped into the past, the threat of constant attack now gone. He'd caught up on centuries of lost sleep in a week, had eaten his fill, and gotten himself used to the bustle of life around him. It had all been a driving point for him, reminding him again and again what his goal was - but it also showed him that this world posed little to no threat to him at this moment.

He'd learned to quell the instinctual urge to kill anybody who tried to peek into his mind, his paranoia slowly leaving him...

...But he was never un-alert.

Ra'kar smiled sweetly at the tribal, averting her eyes girlishly as she did so. It wasn't her mannerism, to act so demure... it was Sierra's. Ra'kar was channeling the remnants of her persona, her quirks and gestures... Using them as a camouflage. Like this, she was passable as something sociable.

However, at the commotion that coursed through the island... the chittering of energies that seemed to fill the very air... The demoness merely narrowed her eyes.

It seemed Victor had found a new toy. Something ancient... and powerful. She didn't know what he had found, he was too far away for specifics, but the energy prickled along her skin and sped her pulse in her throat even from here. With this, they were one step closer...

To what?

Closer to his dream? Was there a reason for her to be here? A General of his massing army? A cornerstone in all of this? What was their fate to her?

Nobody knew. Perhaps not even she herself...

Whatever her motivations. It beat the hell outta' boredom.

"What do you plan on doing to the Leviathan when you meet him once more?"

Her voice cut into the strained silence of the hall, as she quirked a curious half smile his way.

The demoness grins coyly as she retakes her seat on the throne, with a familiar and casual comfort.

"Oh don't worry John dear... I know exactly where she is. As we speak she is getting ready for her unveiling. She will presented as a newly awakened self before those who forsook her. Tellus has matured into quite a remarkable young protige..."

Her index finger absently traced along the markings that etched themselves over her collar bones as she spoke.

:: Tellus luv, are you ready to join the stage and take the spotlight? It's not much longer now--::

She spoke directly to the mind of Leviathan. Her thoughts were for the blue haired woman only.

Stage, Spotlight? Even a few months ago, a desire for these would have been completely foreign to the woman who looked back at her from the mirror she stood in front of. Her hand reached up to caress the shining metal, a small self deprecating chuckle slipping from her lips.

::As you wish, My Lady::

Her hand slid away from the mirror to caress her own body. It felt both new and old to her, familiar and foreign, but she didn't feel so jumbled inside, it was as Ra'kar promised, she had been recreated.