Welcome Cosmic Wanderer to Lore Sunday, Monday Edition! 😀
In the boundless expanse of the Astral Assemblage, dwell beings of unfathomable might, entities whose very essence bends and molds the cosmic tapestry. Among them stand the Archons of the Hypostasis, each governing a unique facet of existence, each playing a critical role in the cosmic ballet. Our focus, in this entry, shifts towards one such enigmatic figure – Thorne, the Archon of Black Holes. Recognized as the Arbiter of Oblivion and a master of gravity manipulation, Thorne has a myriad of responsibilities within the grand theater of the Astral Assemblage.
Our narrative unfolds in the wake of the Void Rift opening in the Salvific Scales Saga. These two tales of Thorne’s duality paint a vivid picture of our masked and mantled Magister of Mystery.
In “Thorne’s Last Dance with Heliosol”, we’ll see a hint of Thorne’s peculiar sense of benevolence, while in “Zephyrae’s Dance: A Tale of Two Archons” we see a darker, more sinister side to the Archon of Black holes.
Grab a cup of your favorite beverage and curl up, because we’re about to embark on whirlwind journey into the Astral Assemblage!
Thorne’s Last Dance with Heliosol
A silence hung heavy in the Seat, the Council of Seven Spirits before the Throne. Xanthe, Archon of Solar Flares, leaned over the expansive table, her luminescent fingers tracing lines and points of light that represented the boundaries of their universe, the Hypostasis. Thorne, Archon of Black Holes, stood opposite her, his gaze focused and calculating.
Xanthe outlined the critical points of the Material World where they might stem the tide of the Void Creatures. Yet, underneath his apparent focus, Thorne harbored a hint of frustration. The celestial landscape before him held no advantageous position for him, for his domain extended nowhere near the Void Rift.
With every report of Void Creature invasions, Thorne’s conviction in their connection to his domain over black holes grew stronger. He knew the two were entwined in ways unfathomable, but he lacked the crucial proximity to study this phenomena in depth.
The strategic planning was abruptly halted as a cosmic shudder announced a new arrival. Ventaura, Messenger of Heliosol, Archon of Solar Eddies, materialized before them. Her normally radiant figure seemed dull, her breaths labored, her energy tinged with panic.
“Thorne… Xanthe… we face a calamity,” she gasped, “Zephyrae’s Dance… it is under siege. A Void Rift has formed near the system’s outer reaches. Void Creatures spill out in unending waves…”
Thorne straightened at the news, his eyes sharpening with understanding. He had known that it was only a matter of time before the Void targeted Heliosol, one of the Elder archons with expansive territories brushing against the Void Rift.
“The outermost planet… lost. Two billion souls, vanished.” Ventaura’s voice trembled with the weight of her words, the profound loss of life almost unbearable. “We beg of you… aid us in restoring balance… stop this devastation…”
The Messenger’s plea seemed to spark something within Thorne. His form straightened, his black eyes aflame with an energy the council room had not seen in eons. This… was an opportunity.
Without a word, Thorne stepped back into the shadows that trailed behind him, folding himself into the darkness. In a blink, he was gone, swallowed by a black hole of his own making, leaving Xanthe and Ventaura to gaze at the empty space he had occupied.
A moment passed before Ventaura found her voice again. “He… left?” Her confusion rippled through the council chamber.
Xanthe merely sighed, looking at the space where Thorne had stood, a knowing yet uneasy look in her eyes. “He’s always been unpredictable,” she admitted, her gaze falling back on the celestial map. “But this… this might be the start of something new.”
In the yawning emptiness where Periphydae once bloomed with life, Thorne lingered. Sending out pulses of energy into the black void, his essence sought the being responsible for such devastation. In the last century, since the Void Rift’s creation, seven celestial bodies had succumbed to this entity, yet no Archon could catch even a glimpse of it.
After a thorough search, he descended into the epicenter of chaos. The space where Periphydae had once orbited now teemed with the ghastly form of Cthulgrith, Void Creatures of unspeakable terror. Unfazed by their arrival, Thorne’s form began to unravel, morphing into an uncontainable torrent of light. A sun of pure zoe-tropic energy.
The Cthulgrith, attracted to the radiance, swarmed him, latching onto the light, gorging on the energy. Thorne gritted his celestial teeth, strained against their combined mass, and wove a web of black holes around him. These gravity wells started pulling the creatures away, swirling in a vortex that devoured the Cthulgrith with unyielding hunger.
As Thorne’s light waned, Heliosol materialized on the surface of the nearest planet. In her radiant astral form, she emanated a golden brilliance that rivaled Thorne’s, luring more creatures into the gravitational trap. They twirled together in a celestial ballet, drawing more and more of the Void Creatures into their snare.
With his energy dwindling, Thorne made a final, Herculean effort. He pushed against the entire system, aligning the remaining planets into their proper orbits. As the last planet clicked into place, his radiance collapsed into itself, leaving a lone sun and a swarm of black holes – a prison, containing the Void Rift.
Heliosol, still shimmering, reached out for Thorne, but found only emptiness. Her search attracted attention, and from behind the fifth planet, a new horror emerged: Yog-Sothorg, the planetary devourer. Caught in the gravitational well, Heliosol was helpless as the gargantuan entity rushed towards her.
Yog-Sothorg swallowed Heliosol whole, and as she vanished, she understood Thorne’s plan. Yog-Sothorg, triumphant, found itself captured in the well of black holes. In that moment, Thorne reappeared, his light blazing brighter than ever, drawing the captive Yog-Sothorg’s attention.
Suddenly, Thorne solidified, taking a corporeal form akin to an obsidian moon-sized angel. His hand extended toward Yog-Sothorg, who thrashed and bellowed, snapping its monstrous maw towards him. Then, Thorne created a brief window in the gravity well, guiding Yog-Sothorg back to the Void Rift, and resealed it, leaving the monster on the other side.
As the final echoes of Yog-Sothorg’s bellow faded, Thorne’s radiance dulled to a soft glow. He hovered in the aftermath of his grueling triumph, a silent sentinel amidst the reconfigured cosmic tableau. His peculiar form of benevolence, wrapped in self-serving ambitions and hard choices, had maintained the fragile equilibrium of the cosmos. Balance reigned once again, at least until the next challenge rose from the Void’s depths.
Tango at Zephyrae: A Tale of Two Archons
The air in the grand Council chamber trembled, echoing with the enraged cry of the solar deity Heliosol. Her spectral figure radiated with the vibrant power of the suns, her flames flickering anxiously as she addressed the celestial beings assembled before her. Each member of the council – a collection of transcendent beings, Archons, each a master of their domain – held a piece of the cosmos under their watchful eye.
“I demand that Thorne be held accountable for his transgressions at Zephyrae’s Dance!” she bellowed, the fury in her voice causing even the ever-calm Calantha to raise an eyebrow.
Her outrage echoed through the celestial plane, colliding against the ancient stardust walls of the Council chamber, and yet the accused remained conspicuously absent. But not for long.
With a sound like the universe inhaling, the fabric of the chamber buckled inward, contorting to form a swirling vortex of inky darkness. And from it emerged Thorne – the Archon of Black Holes. His form was that of an unfathomable abyss, a figure carved from darkness and studded with stars. His arrival was quiet, a stark contrast to the thunderous anger of Heliosol.
“Perhaps our dear Heliosol would be better served by recognizing her own heroism,” Thorne began, his voice akin to the resounding echo of a black hole. “She performed the unthinkable at Zephyrae’s Dance, catching the attention of the Yog-Sothorg. It was a feat none of us have ever managed, a sacrifice to be lauded.”
Yet Heliosol was not appeased. Her flames blazed brighter, manifesting her defiance. “And yet your actions have left a void! A void that Obscurion, the Archon of the Unseen, seeks to fill! Your reckless obsession has left Zephyrae’s Dance vulnerable, and I am too weak to protect my domain!”
An unsettling silence fell over the Council chamber, broken only by the soft humming of the cosmic weave. The assembled Archons turned their attention to Thorne, expecting a response.
“I have done and will continue to do what is best for the Hypostasis,” Thorne finally answered, his voice carrying an undercurrent of unwavering resolve. “The Throne lies empty. In the absence of guidance, we must do what we deem necessary.”
With that, he stepped backward into the cosmic shadow from whence he came, leaving behind a Council chamber filled with tension and unanswered questions. The cosmic game had just begun, and the pieces were falling into place.
After the council’s tumultuous assembly, Thorne found himself adrift in the timeless expanse of space. His essence shimmered against the tapestry of the cosmos, a solitary figure against a backdrop of gleaming stars and swirling galaxies. He was alone, yet he was everywhere, his consciousness reaching out to the edges of the known universe. His destination: Zephyrae’s Dance.
Zephyrae’s Dance, once vibrant and teeming with the joyful light of Heliosol’s myriad aspects, now stood like an abandoned theater, the echoes of its last performance haunting its empty stages. As he drew closer, he could sense the void left by Heliosol, a vast emptiness yearning to be filled.
Thorne arrived first at the Void Rift, the site of his previous gambit and his trap for the monstrosities of the Void. The swirling maelstrom of black holes that he had spun into existence danced their grim ballet, encircling the Rift, ready to consume any monstrosity that dared to step foot in this plane of existence. He scrutinized the trap, his consciousness probing its defenses, testing its integrity. Satisfied that his trap remained undisturbed, he released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
Allowing his form to dissolve into the cosmic ether, Thorne expanded his essence, a moon-sized phantom unfolding across the night sky. Suddenly, he splintered into a thousand fragments of inky darkness, cascading down onto the six remaining planets of Zephyrae’s Dance like a celestial rain. Each shard of his being bore his will, his consciousness echoing within their essence as they dispersed among the inhabitants, unseen and unnoticed.
For what felt like a breath and an eternity, Thorne existed in a thousand places at once. He walked the bustling marketplaces, observed quiet domestic scenes, listened to hushed conversations in the shadows. He collected whispers and rumors, piecing together a puzzle that pointed to one chilling conclusion: Obscurion had cast his shadow over Zephyrae’s Dance. The systematic eradication of Heliosol’s aspects was not a random act of violence. It was strategic, precise – the signature of the Archon of the Unseen.
Just as the realization hit him, Thorne felt a tremor ripple through the Celestial Flux, a silent alarm that echoed in the back of his mind. His essence recoiled from the planets, drawn back into space like an unseen tide. There, in the boundless expanse, he found an armada of peculiar ships positioned ominously near his Void Trap. They were firing beams of energy into its core, piercing its defenses and distorting the celestial ballet of the black holes.
A low growl rumbled through Thorne’s angelic form as he rose from the sea of stars, his countenance hardened with grim determination. It was clear now – this was not just an incursion. This was an invasion. And Thorne would do whatever it took to safeguard his domain and protect the precious balance of the Hypostasis.
As he grappled with the mystery of the armada’s energy beam and the puzzling reverberations it caused within the Celestial Flux, a plan took shape in the archon’s mind. Strategically positioning himself to use the armada as a shield, he fractured his Void Trap, offering a direct line of sight to the void rift. The armada responded immediately, halting their energy beam and erecting defenses as the system held its collective breath. Yet, the anticipated catastrophe never ensued.
A new strategy dawned on Thorne; if an invitation failed to provoke a reaction, perhaps a summons would fare better. Morphing into his celestial form, a beacon of Zoe-Tropic light as brilliant as a small sun, he seized the armada’s attention. Dividing their forces, they prepared to face the two-fold threat.
Then, as if answering the archon’s call, the void rift quaked. A celestial quake echoed through the flux as the rift birthed a swarm of cthulgrith. Sensing Thorne’s celestial light, they flocked towards him, colliding with the armada that barred their path.
Maintaining his luminescent form long enough to unleash a formidable horde on the armada, Thorne retracted to his angelic form and repaired the gaping hole in his Void Trap. The legion of cthulgrith was effectively trapped.
Fragmenting again, Thorne materialized on each ship in the armada. The chaos of the cthulgrith attack provided cover as he sought answers. Aboard the ship, the sight of cosmic knights confirmed his suspicion – he was dealing with Obscurion’s forces. But what was the Unseen planning?
The answer lay within the heart of the armada’s largest ships. Initially mistaken as colonization vessels due to their size, a deeper exploration revealed something far more sinister. Each ship was equipped with a massive spherical chamber, inside which hung an Aeon, an Aspect of Obscurion.
Intrigued and alarmed, Thorne concentrated his fragmented presence into a single entity aboard one of these colossal vessels. Navigating to the antechamber of the sphere, he swiftly dispatched the guards with a black hole before they could mount a defense. Upon examining the control panels, he discovered the firing system for the mysterious energy beam.
Just as he cracked the secrets of the system and prepared to reactivate it, a peculiar disturbance rippled through the Celestial Flux. This wasn’t the usual shudder of the void or the awakening of a cthulgrith. No, this was something else. As he turned around, he came face-to-face with Obscurion, the Archon of the Unseen.
The confrontation between Thorne and Obscurion hung in the silent expanse of space. In the antechamber of one of the eleven great ships, they stood facing one another, two opposing forces of the cosmos meeting in an inevitable clash.
“You arm that system, and I’m afraid you might not have the energy to construct another barrier to protect your precious rift… That is a tractor beam array powered by Zoe-Tropic Light. I’ve… found something, you see,” Obscurion started, his voice a dark echo resonating throughout the room.
“Your reckless actions are putting the entire Hypostasis at risk, Obscurion. The flux quakes throughout the system because of your uncontrolled ambitions,” Thorne retorted, his voice steady but laced with concern. His gaze was drawn to the surrounding system, where the celestial flux quivered, protesting against Obscurion’s meddling.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” Obscurion pushed on, almost gleeful. “The shudder in the Flux? The push against the very forces of gravity itself? Can’t you feel the immense dark matter resonating from the other side of your precious Rift?”
Thorne held his gaze steady on Obscurion. “What I sense, is someone overstepping their bounds,” he replied, his voice dipped in warning. As if to punctuate his words, a microscopic black hole formed in the palm of his hand, radiating an intimidating display of his control over gravity. His form split into eleven slivers, each appearing in the antechambers on the 11 ships powering the array. As if choreographed, the Thorne copies dispatched the remaining security teams, leaving each chamber in a state of eerie silence.
“Explain yourself, Obscurion,” he demanded, his eleven forms moving to hover in the Spherical Chambers where the Aeon’s were held captive. His hands extended, each floating ominously a foot from the Aeon’s foreheads. The force of the black holes pulled and tore at the Aeons, their screams echoing through the celestial flux.
Obscurion merely chuckled, his form shivering as he subdivided into multiple forms of his own, each appearing behind the captive Aeons, a dark matter blade poised dangerously at their throats. “There’s no need for such theatrics,” he chided, and in a heartbeat, he slashed at each Aeon, reabsorbing their Zoe-Tropic light. “You see, Thorne, I’ve found a new universe on the other side of the Rift. An expanse filled with untold amounts of dark matter… the potential for creating entire galaxies from the Dark. Surely you must understand the appeal?”
“But I am not here on behalf of understanding Obscurion,” Thorne began, only to be interrupted by Obscurion’s cold voice.
“You’re here to protect your interests. You’re here because someone dared to play with your toys without your permission,” Obscurion spat out, his voice simmering with contempt. “But times have changed, dear brother. The rules you hold dear… they are becoming obsolete.”
“Your words are filled with rumors and blasphemies,” Thorne rebuked, but Obscurion merely grinned, a sinister edge to his amusement.
“I’ve heard that the creatures from the Void cannot create rifts, Thorne. They can only come and go where the rifts exist,” he taunted. “And yet, you always seem to be present when things go awry. Makes one wonder what the Council thinks of your latest project, doesn’t it?”
Thorne’s response was silent but decisive. He let go of his smaller forms, transforming into massive angelic figures within each of the eleven ships, effectively ripping them apart in the process. As his forms coalesced into one, Obscurion retaliated by assuming a similar monstrous angelic form, a silhouette of darkness against Thorne’s celestial light. The destructive dance of their powers tore through the expanse, laying waste to the surrounding armada.
As Obscurion lunged at him with a great dark matter lance, Thorne dodged and retreated, the celestial giant using his wings to create a gap between him and his adversary. “I am Oblivion, chosen by the Urge himself. What are you but a pawn to be played when I take the throne, Obscurion?” Thorne taunted back.
“The Urge is gone, Thorne! This is our Hypostasis now! We can do with it as we please!” Obscurion shouted back, his voice echoing across the celestial battlefield. With that, he directed a brilliant burst of Zoe-tropic light from his chest. “I. Want. What. Is. MINE!” he screams, directing the beam at the heart of the void trap. Thorne barely had time to dodge the beam, his mind whirring as he tried to fathom Obscurion’s intentions.
“Very well. Then take it,” Thorne muttered. In a swift motion, he shed his celestial form, and with all the force he could muster, he gave Obscurion a great shove. The black holes sheathing the Rift opened wide, and the Void Rift swallowed Obscurion whole as Thorne re-sealed the barrier. Thorne turned to survey the wreckage left in the aftermath of their encounter, his heart pounding in his celestial chest. The echoes of the battle hung heavily in the silence of the void, a grim reminder of the clash between the forces of the cosmos.
As Thorne surveyed the aftermath of his cataclysmic battle with Obscurion, the void before him was filled with the remnants of a once formidable armada. Now, only a cloud of debris and lifeless bodies drifted aimlessly, disrupted by the gravitational pull of Obscurion’s expulsion. The celestial bodies in the system were scattered and out of sync, the equilibrium that once held them in perfect harmony, now shattered.
Summoning every ounce of his strength, Thorne began the monumental task of realigning the system. He had stretched his powers to their utmost during the battle with Obscurion, and yet, his task was far from over. The tugs of gravity, like strings on a grand celestial harp, resonated through the cosmic expanse as he manipulated the fundamental force to mend the spatial chaos.
The beacon of Zoe-tropic light Thorne had unleashed earlier had served its purpose well, luring the Cthulgrith into his well-orchestrated snare. But their thirst for the light was insatiable, and Thorne pondered on how to exploit this hunger further. He lacked the finesse of Oriel’s bindings, or Aria’s entrancing melodies. His method was more primal – baiting them, much like he had done with the Yog-Sothorg, by offering Heliosol as a sacrifice.
A grim plan crystallized in Thorne’s mind. He would guide the Cthulgrith toward the planets of Zephyrae’s Dance, a system brimming with the Aspects of Heliosol and the Agents of Obscurion. The loss would be significant – the majority of Heliosol’s Aspects would be devoured, but in the wake of such sacrifice, Obscurion’s footprint would be eradicated. The void creatures, attracted exclusively to the radiant Zoe-Tropic light, would ignore the civilian populace as they fled in terror. Thorne could only hope their losses would be minimal. The destruction wrought upon their cities, towns, and villages was an unfortunate collateral damage, but Obscurion’s influence could not be allowed to take root in Zephyrae’s Dance.
As the chaos unfolded, Thorne watched from afar. His resolve hardened, he understood the necessity of a permanent presence here. To prevent Obscurion’s ambitions, to safeguard the void rift, and to delve further into the mysteries of these spatial anomalies. If he could force them open, could he also seal them permanently? Was there a way to manipulate the void creatures to his will?
The Cthulgrith invasion played out its course, reducing Heliosol and Obscurion’s Aspects to flickering embers before extinguishing them completely. Thorne, observing the destruction with a heavy heart, sighed at the high price paid for today’s victory. He dropped his corporeal form once more, becoming a beacon of light to the remaining Cthulgrith. Luring them back to the void rift, he shepherded them through the barrier before sealing it again.
A monumental task lay ahead of him, but for now, Thorne took a moment to reflect on the heavy cost of maintaining balance in the cosmos. The expanse before him echoed with the silent screams of the lost and the echoes of the battle that had unfolded. Yet, amidst the chaos, Thorne stood resolute, the guardian of the Hypostasis, the keeper of balance, ready to face whatever trials the future held.