59. The Dissolution
The Dissolution
Lamari Dross, Annalist of the Jade Lattices
It is now spoken of only in hushed tones, as though naming it too freely might invite dissolution once again: The Dissolution.
On that day, Sevrion Hale, long a heretic cloaked in Doctrine, conspired with his wretched sympathizers to betray the Sokar. They seized her within the Tribunal Chamber and sought to scour her soul with the Godblind itself, to erase the Light entrusted to us by the Void.
But treason cannot hide from Divinity.
The Resh’Agar came.
Those who survived say he did not enter as a man, but as a storm unchained: blue fire and molten light, searing veins carved into the very marble of the Tribunal.
Walls split, stone bled, air itself turned molten as the traitors screamed and were unmade.
The Sokar was wrested from their grasp, the Iron cast down, and the storm’s fury cleansed the Chamber of rot.
Thus was Hale dissolved, his body nothing more than ash and ruin, his name henceforth stricken from the Annals of Doctrine.
Thus too fell his allies, melted and broken, erased by the wrath they summoned.
Among them was a figure the People believed to be sacred and untouchable.
The Selen Companion, Zeera. Her bones were discovered among the dead, but no mourning ceremony will be held.
She will be known henceforth as a traitor to the Void.
The Godblind, by Void’s mercy, endured, returned now to its rightful place within the sanctum of the Jade Lattices.
The Sokar lives.
Though marked, though scarred, her light remains. She rests beneath the Shields and recovers, her voice a prayer against the silence left in the wake of the Dissolution.
And the Resh’Agar — our Aegis, our Sovereign Arm — has spoken.
When the Dark has nearly run its course, when the stars bend low and the Void’s gaze looks kindly upon Krystopolis once more, he will depart.
With the breaking of Dark, he will march forth upon Campaign, to strengthen our bonds with the Gliders and to scour the dissenters who would gnaw at the roots of our great city.
It is no delay, no hesitation, but prophecy. The Arm of the Void waits not on mortal schedules, but on the rhythm of the Cycles themselves. As the Dark wanes, so shall his justice rise.
May the Void bless his Arm with Strength and Might.
May the Shields endure until his return.