Today is a great day. Today is the Day of Remembrance. Today is Doomsday.
Most have forgotten the achievements of Lord Doom. But some remember. The Deep Downers, usually. Those few, proud Drakons, who remember the old ways. The ways decreed by the Three, spoken unto Doom, and conferred to His people, the Black Arms.
A Drakon should not see the sun, unless it is illuminating the corpses of his enemies. That was the first commandment. There were more. Many more. But even the Deep have forgotten most of them. But those that are remembered are clung to. For without them, what do they have?
Doom was eventually struck down by His enemies. The Echidna's. Savages. They slaughtered him, and feasted on His flesh. (Book of Doom, Chapter 82, verse 12). But He had been touched by the three. He walked this plane lightly.
What little remained of His body was recovered, and placed in state. His tomb lies in the deep caverns of Drak. Soon, it was almost forgotten.
Almost.
But the Deep remember. They have to. And every year, on Doomsday, they gather in His tomb. Their numbers have shrunk since those days. But they still gather.
One of them, Na Rak, claims descent from The Lord. His skin is marked as Dooms was. But that means little. Many of his army were marked by skin of black and blood. Still Na Rak insists his claim, and is ignored.
They gather in the tomb, and begin to pray. Lesser fish are slain for their sacrilege. Only Drakon may see the tomb.
The tomb is in His likeness. He was a formidable character, in His time. The first of the Drakon to be granted flesh. The first to walk the land. The one who created the Houses. The leader of their armies. The father of an Empire, now eight thousand years old.
And now Na Rak has entered. Watch him. Notice the markings on his scales. See him bow to the tomb.
See the tomb begin to glow, and break open.
Who calls?
Power, pure, unchecked, lashes out into the chamber. Watch those touched by it. Watch them fall. Watch them sink into the silt. Watch Na Rak, terrified.
"My lord?"
Watch the creature emerge from the tomb. A single, glowing eye, in the center of a starfish. Watch it look around, speaking without words.
Who calls?
Watch it wrap around Na Rak. Listen to him scream in agony. Watch the clouds of silt rise, until you can see no more. And listen to the screams.
The screams of birth.
Watch the creature that was Na Rak emerge. Three, great staring eyes. A ring of horns. Hands ending with three great claws.
The others rise. All of them, tall, muscular. Their skin is black, with streaks of red. Their master turns to them.
"This is the day." it rumbles.
"Today, we forge my army in the fires of change. In the flames of destruction. Let lesser boast. Doom acts."
Watch Death Incarnate leave the cavern. Watch his children follow.
This is the day. This is the day.