No one could have guessed what it was meant to hide.
It was a dark, frozen realm with snow packed so thickly that it acted as the earth itself, a sky that was a black that was hard to comprehend, a cold wind that bit like hungry wolves, and an eerie silence.
The wind was strong, beating those who dared explore such a lonely place into regret.
A strong sense of sadness and remorse hung in the air, acting as yet another weight on dead shoulders.
The blizzard was hard to see past, hard to move through, and it ripped energy and life away with freezing tooth and claw. The cold alone was enough to knock someone to their knees, begging the gods for forgiveness and asking—crying out—for mercy.
A stone hand reached from the snow, cracked and coated in ice, as an eerie reminder of the past.
This realm was cursed to eternal winter, and it has lasted for centuries… Millennia.
Beneath the ages-worth of snow and ice, the world was scarred, burnt, and war-torn, and a single corpse lay in the center, frozen.
It was the realm of the gods, Oblivion.
It was a cold that even the King of Beasts couldn't bear, nonetheless the gods themselves.
It was a nightmare nothing, no one, could take.
Except for him.
He stood in the blizzard, unaffected by the cold, not even seeming to acknowledge it.
He wore a wicked smile, chuckling quietly to himself.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen…"
It was a dark, frozen realm with snow packed so thickly that it acted as the earth itself, a sky that was a black that was hard to comprehend, a cold wind that bit like hungry wolves, and an eerie silence.
The wind was strong, beating those who dared explore such a lonely place into regret.
A strong sense of sadness and remorse hung in the air, acting as yet another weight on dead shoulders.
The blizzard was hard to see past, hard to move through, and it ripped energy and life away with freezing tooth and claw. The cold alone was enough to knock someone to their knees, begging the gods for forgiveness and asking—crying out—for mercy.
A stone hand reached from the snow, cracked and coated in ice, as an eerie reminder of the past.
This realm was cursed to eternal winter, and it has lasted for centuries… Millennia.
Beneath the ages-worth of snow and ice, the world was scarred, burnt, and war-torn, and a single corpse lay in the center, frozen.
It was the realm of the gods, Oblivion.
It was a cold that even the King of Beasts couldn't bear, nonetheless the gods themselves.
It was a nightmare nothing, no one, could take.
Except for him.
He stood in the blizzard, unaffected by the cold, not even seeming to acknowledge it.
He wore a wicked smile, chuckling quietly to himself.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen…"