Upon the dawn of the seventh day of the Creators’ Monomachy, the realm at large noticed a convergence of lepidopteran legions, their winged multiplicity soon perching upon the Imago’s radiant throne. Gathered there after weeks of disjointed, intrusive hints and subtle sensations, the Astral Court arrived just in time to watch their beloved goddess manifest upon the Prime after so many weeks of absence. Swift as lightning, the moths assailed one another in a bloodied battle, their orgiastic violence comprising the crucible of Her return. Forged in the depths of chromatic carnage, the Nightmare arose from this insectile din, Her form alight with the many hues and sensations that exist within Her domain of Instinct.
In short order, the Empress of Astral banished all but Her beloved courtiers, demanding privacy in this troubled time. Though many of the details of Her mandates remain hidden behind this veil of secrecy, three things were made clear:
First and foremost, Omei made it clear that Her return to Her nightmarish aspect is no coincidence, for it is this guise that serves Her best in Her thirst for vengeance against Her hated Father. Admitting to Her gathered vassals that She had always felt a revolting aversion to Her Father, the Nightmare explained that Her rebellion was writ clear into Her very being, the prime instinct that charted the course of Her entire existence of untold ages to come. Though this drew no surprise from Her courtiers, the goddess waxed poetic regardless, cursing the name of Varyan Celestine in a display of cold fury beyond any ever exhibited by Her in eons past.
Second, Omei informed Her Court that She expected them to help Her with unprecedented work within the Chaos Plane for a reason the Grand Library was unable to glean from their anonymous sources. Outlining Her scheme upon a map of Astral energy, the court was eager to contribute their thoughts, their thirst for primal ceremony shining through in a rapturous instant that bolstered Her confidence in those She had gathered over these long years.
Last, She declared to those gathered that She required a new champion who would then bear the Midnight glaive in Her absence as She prepared the underpinnings of Her celestial machinations. With little thought, the chaotic goddess selected Eaku Redwood; once of the Heartwood and forged by the zeal of the Hammer, Omei proclaimed that such a mix served Her ends perfectly. Upon gaining the Tsol’aa’s agreement, the goddess elevated him to the ancient station of Brute – a title Instinct Immortal had otherwise left behind in Her ascent to Chaotic Diarchy.
As the duel between the Celestine and the Eschaton continues to rage in the heavens, the city states of Sapience turn in all directions for counsel, and while some of the Gods have made clear Their wishes, others are mysteriously absent…
Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 7th of Arios, in the year 511 MA.