Chapter 83 — The Hunger Awakens
Korthrax
He had always been there.
Not as a lord. Not as a being with a name at first. He was the wound. The Great Rift in its purest, most exquisite form — a tear in the fabric of existence where raw, untamed possibility spilled forth like blood from a fresh cut. In the earliest moments after creation, when the world was still soft and unformed, he had tasted the first souls foolish enough to cross his path. He consumed them. Absorbed their memories, their power, their screams. Each meal made him more. Each devoured existence added another layer to his ever-expanding consciousness.
The others had tried to seal him away. The early Abyssal Lords sacrificed an entire bloodlines in desperate rituals. Seraphiel and her pathetic Celestial Host poured divine light into the wound, hoping to cauterize it. They called it the War of Shattered Veils. They called him a monster.
And they were absolutely right.
But they could not kill what was the Rift.
