Hovering just out of orbit on the other side of the planet was another craft, ridiculously small, with zero communication modules operable. It was speculatively a shantycraft, running on what, magic?

It exited orbit upon witnessing the impact, heading into space in the opposite direction. Their work here was done.

"Uh...."

A single space cruiser accelerated through the orbit of Arishok IV , seemingly unaware of the gravitational pull of the planet. The ship was quite massive for it's class, eclipsing the sun as it overtook the horizon. It was a good thing this planet was said to have been mostly barren, devoid of native sentient life.

"Dow..." In the bridge of this single ship, the crew stared in seeming disbeleif at the front display module. It wasn't showing anything particularly fascinating, besides their complete demise. The rocky surface drew closer and closer, ants turning to boulders, boulders to mountains, deep lines swifly stretching into caverns cutting across the crust.



Then, it crashed, sending a ripple of dust through the atmosphere of the planet. As for the crew, they had been lost five minutes prior. In his last moments of coherence, the captain had sent a cry transmission shooting through space and time. It was but a few bumbling words, and was then cut out.

"Uh....Dow...." Echoed through space, riding a viral transmission and looking for a mind.

The desolate wastelands of space, with cosmic anomalies and other secret mysteries of the great wide expanse would be in view, as a yellow outline would emerge gradually, slowly changing into ripped yellowed robes, a mask made of silver like material and screaming faces covering with a crown of many prongs, would come to light.

Then finally the figure would be shown.

The oldest of old, the deadly of most deadly, he was a King, a cruel aberration that goal was to cause turmoil, to cause terror. The King in Yellow had decided to begin his biggest piece move, The Queen, which would solve out the one issue in the grand scheme, within this machinations. It was time to crush an empire, destroy the very fools which pledged to be the end all, force these pathetic pretenders to be his subjects.

Eyeing the engulfing abyss he would speak, "Azathoth, I beseech to make an example, a warning to those who claim to be God Killers." he would chuckle in mockery, "I wish to bear the powers of my realm in this world, give me, give me this!" laughing he would feel a great power surge through him, as a being spoke, through his mind, 'SLAVES. SLAVES.' with that it would silence and the King would chuckle.

There were many reasons to fear the King in Yellow one was the fact he was about to crush a whole empire, the other was he was going to do it in such a way, no one would ever realize whom was to blame.

The ancient deadly magic of eons lost, a hidden eldritch magick that was never seen or heard of outside his kingdom, he was going to use 'The Light of the King.' (biomagicaluminent).

This magic was otherworldly, not arcane but not celestial. It was unable to prevent it's touch, for no current technology, innovations or heavenly interventions could possibly wish to comprehend this force, this truly terrifying crushing horror designed begin the apocalyse of a kind. no one could predict, nor deign to understand.

The shanty craft landed.

"I see your test was successful," said a Dark elf, his cloak wrapping around his armour as he slipped into view through a tear in space-time made by his own, elegant hand. "But are you sure you can even control this? So old, so powerful it is. Even I, who has spent centuries in the universe's oldest libraries, scouring the most ancient of tomes, translating the most alien of texts, can not completely comprehend this power."

The being would listen and say, "Don't question those who can fathom minutes within seconds, hours within minutes. I am the wielder of this, not a mere amateur with a shiny baubel. Question me again and you shall witness true horror, you wished to stand with me, even knowing what I bring in the end." It would chuckle clearly rather amused by such queries, the very idea someone would ask if he could handle such power, the sheer audacity suggested they still had not quite understood who they were dearling with, very well.

"All who stand will be given fast deaths, this is merely just a piece moving in my long game. Your so-called crusades of utter rightiousness do not overshadow anything, it's merely just another piece in another place of this cosmic jigsaw."

"Hold your damn tongue. You are my equal on the Pantheon, not my superior; my brethren, not my enemy. I stand by your side here because in some way, I believe in what you are trying to accomplish." He rolled his eyes as spoke, before shifting his foot against the ground and turning away from the wreckage before him.

The mention of the name would cause shuddering and dangerous whispers to emanate through everyone skulls, "You are no equal, merely a tool to a greater mind. I side with Pantheon because it benefits me, not because I believe myself, or deign myself equal." he would pause and go on, "I have everything here, those maggots shall understand soon that eventually their will always be a bigger fish."

Cenoic made a note to not say Hastur's name again... FOr what followed was a most uncomfortable sensation that he did not wish to repeatedly experience. "Very well, friend. I will take my leave now, I have my own business to attend right now. We will meet again when this plan progresses further. Until then, I bid you farewell."
At that, Cenoic, member of the Grand Pantheon of Deities in the entire Multiverse, disappeared via a doorway that opened with creaking wood... A door that wasn't there before, standing without a wall around it.

There was a clear sudden aura of menacing decay showering over the entire of Terra, the source was unknown and those who fathom what would be coming, would not be able to stop this. This was merely a chess game bigger than all could comprehend. The rain would lash down, but at least drop would be tinged corruption of a sort that no one had witnessed on this plane. A drop of pure destruction. Where was it going?

In reality, this was only though the calm before the storm.

There was in this drop a single thread of what could be, a thread of possibility, that stretched directly towards a certain place. It was more than a thread, a pulsing light of the Universe, a piece of reality that simply was. A blessing, or a curse? Completely up to interpretation, for as it passed unnoticed through the very fabric of this world, it found it's purpose.

The drops descended, sending a maelstrom of utter livid sickness that stuck the ground and . landing in the mountains south of a creeping, cursed wood. The nearby flora were weakened and killed, while animals that were struck, would have their skin dissolved in a slow grueling way.

For a whole mile radius, distress shook the whole continent.

Pulsing with intent, the thread whipped itself through time, escaping on the tide of death and decay. All would seem frozen to the thread, as if it tugged itself on along an invisible wind. The thread was alive, on it's destiny, on it's mission, on it's way.

In the distance, a meteor zoomed, none the wiser to the diabolical plan of the strange yellow God like thing.

Deep within the dark recesses of the maw knelt a god with his head bowed. Before him rested a small ornate box with a keyhole upon its front, and further still before the kneeling figure lay a rift within the chaotic energies of the maw.

"My Lord, it is as you foresaw," he spoke into the darkness. "The gods convene above and and turn a blind eye to the world of man while the one you foretold of makes his move."

Goooood. You know then what to do, my faithful servant.

The disembodied voice was laced with menacing intent that chilled his heart.

"Of course my Lord," he replied as he unlocked and opened the box at his feet. Within it rested a small glass vial. It was such a deceptively harmless looking object, and yet his hands shook, for what lay within that vial held the key to killing a god. "It will be as you instructed. But my Lord, how is it that I will survive?"

Step forward.

He raised a wary head to look upon the darkness before he rose to his feet and stepped closer.

Give me your hand.

He licked his lips nervously before extending his hand out to the darkness.

A withered claw reached out of the rift and grasped him by the wrist while another dragged a knife across the palm of his hand. The blade sliced cleanly through even the god's flesh. With a sharp cry he drew his hand back, clutching at the bloody gash with a mingling of shock and dismay. Never before had he lay eyes upon his own blood.

Mix a single drop into the elixir.

He stepped back, bowing his head in subservience as the rift closed.

The thread had arrived... Slithering through and around trees like a snake airborne. The curse... The ancient, unstoppable curse had found it's way to it's destination, and now Castle Vankoryth would do to take up it's power. The ancient, Gothic gates could not stop it, for it slipped through like a ghostly creation, and any guard, whether vampiric or otherwise, who had not been chosen yet tried to reach up and snatch it, would simply be unable to do so.

And with that, it continued on into the castle to begin it's work...

Noxize Deschain A pause, something wicked had arrived. It resembled something familiar, yet slightly off. Things were getting interesting on this dirt-ball of a world. Nox's mental abilities simply noted down the Thread, and marked it as something to observe. "Well...well. The leeches DO have some teeth after all.."

The black mass would then seep away into a crack and vanish. The party was just getting started. Outside the Descorp Dragoons would have the Anti-air weaponry set up, and loaded. The crates of weapons placed somewhere secure, and the Blink-Node ready to spill out whatever was needed. Things were as ready as they were going to be.

Fanned out through the area were squads of the Descop Chimeras, ready to unleash hell upon any who sought to invade this land. They were just the hired help...but bred for combat- made willing to fight and die for other's causes. Descorp was expensive..but well worth the price.

"ground to atmo, whatsup"

"Ground to atmo, whatsup," Came through.

An Aschen Reverence II was orbiting the blue green marble called Terra, specifically honed in on the Cursed Wood. Over the transmissions in the bridge of the Reverence, a radio wave sent from the nigh depths of space crackled in, drowning this out. At first, it was just white noise, but then the crew heard the message.

Uh...Dow...

It was sent from what was marked in the signature on the waves as a fellow Aschen ship, an outer patrol ship to be exact. Scrambling, the captain searched to identify the ship. It hadn't been officially marked as missing yet. Two weeks ago was it's last incoming?

Weird. They should contact ground.

Meanwhile, much like an addicting song, the transmission worked it's way through the cognitive processes of the Captain, and all who heard the transmission. He radio'd the bay, their minds would catch it too. Finally, the Captain who still didn't know better, would radio to ground.

Atmosphere to Ground,

A shame the only way to prevent this magical contagion, this biomagicaluminent thread of the universe, from spreading was total isolationism and non communication.

This crew, and all Aschen who heard or communicated with this these transmissions, were doomed.

The Reverence continued to silently loom above the Cursed wood. Her AI was the first to pick up the strange transmission, on what was supposed to be the transmission frequency of a lost ship. The AI analyzed the signal in a split second and picked up the strange magical qualities piggybacking on the signal itself.

The AI paused and considered for a moment, before the magical essences were scrubbed and the transmission was blocked.

"The Transmission lacked a verification code, I've also detected an unknown magical anomaly within the transmission itself." She reported to Admiral Steele via a subspace communication directly into his headset.

"Audio has been quarantined and isolated for sampling with the AI Banks and under analysis."

Steele nodded and grasped his communication relay. "Analyze the signal and find it's origins. Something's not right here." He said calmly, a strange intuition tugging at his senses.

"Keep the signal isolated and contained within the AI Banks."

Thankfully, thanks to the speedy intervention of the Ship's AI and strange unknown cosmic forces, the strange audio never reached the ears of any human or Aschen, but contained within the tomb of the ship's AI banks, a potential death stopped in it's tracks by an intuitive AI.