On a cliff jutting from a mountainside, Belphegor regarded her domain. It had been far too long. In the distance, minions flew through the sky on their transporters, the seven great cities with their sky-piercing towers the home for their respective castes glowing in the distance. It was all so temporary, even in a place without time. Already, the white was showing from the nexus. Ice gripped the mountainside, something alien to anybody who did not remember their mortal existence; Belphegor had seen it in abundance.
Forgetting the vista, she regarded her own form. The crystalline matrix had covered most of her body, accelerating these last few moments. She turned her hand, watching the tentacled form as it swirled beneath her skin.
‘With this, I make thee truly immortal’ a voice whispere
