One of the Psychics saw him and shouted, "You there! Do you know what happened?" The Wise One pushed past him and looked down at their leader. No irises, black veins, dark blood dribbling out of the mouth, nose, eyes and years. No breath. That is when the Wise One stopped. He could see a pulse in the Leader's neck, three beats a second. He could hear a whispering sound coming from the Leader's open mouth. He got up quickly and backed away.
"What is wrong?" one said, but he shouted, "You are all DEAD. It is over for you. You idiots! You do not know a thing, what is controlling you or how this power came to be yours. How can you be so ignorant?" Some Psychics were becoming angry, but the Wise One kept his verbal storm going. "Because of your ignorance, you will never be the same again, and the consequences of your actions will be greater than you can ever imagine."
The Psychics had all just stopped dead at the weight of the Wise One's words. They did not realise what they had been since entering the Castle. They were nothing but slaves to a higher power and a higher will. The difference between them and him was that he understood. They had been blinded by a delusion of truth and had followed it to the end, and now they were just Drones. His eyes drifted over to a pedestal, whereupon rested two books and the Sphere, objects he seemed drawn to. He picked both up, and left briskly. None of them even stopped him.
The Wise One got outside to see the world as the winter it had always had been, and as it always would be.
He turned slowly to take in the sight just beyond the Castle. A rift like a great eye had seared the grey sheet, growing into a portal. It was now he could feel the presence of the true Elders. He could see shapes forming within the void, the Unchained, the Mindworm, Celestial Gyres lying broken in a space devoid of stars. The time of that dimension had ended, and now the living lifelessness poured into this world, taking on the forms of Beings. Thousands of white eyes glared upon him.
The Wise One began to sprint, as the Aporia seeped into the Altar Room behind.
Empyrean saw him coming and motioned for the others to follow. They were staring at the complex above them with varying levels of concern. The Aporia seeped onto the outermost battlements, the eyes taking on physical forms with physical weapons, and lethal intelligence. "What in the Gods' names is that?" Sigil yelled, pointing upwards at a winged figure. The air was arctic cold.
They all sprinted after the Wise One, trying to keep pace with him. The mists were seeping into the central tower, where the Psychics were. They were doomed, as each of them tried to use their great powers to save themselves. The powers failed in the might of the will they would succumb to.
None of the Volatauiq Ancients that had been under the Psychics could be seen, but the Wise One could notdo a thing to warn them of the impending attack. All that existed in this place were vessels; vessels of the Void.
They had got to the main gates of the Castle, through a statue room. "Do we shut these gates?" Locksley asked. "No, we have no time." The Wise One replied briskly. All of them sprinted down the stairs, only to see a whole squad of Volatauiq Ancients sprinting up. "Stop." The Wise One said, but the leader said, "We need to get our comrades out of there. Do not seek to stop us. We'll cover your escape!" They continued on into the depths, while the Wise One ran down the stairs.
The Wise One was the last down, and as he looked back, he saw black clouds above the Castle. Lightning lit his gaze, and for a moment, he saw one of Them looking down upon him, without remorse or emotion. This was not over...
The Wise One sprinted away with the others as darkness descended upon the structure.
They were on the Volatau-Kanuk border once again, in a turn-off of the main valley that formed the border. All of them were breathing heavily. "What in hell is going on?" Empyrean said, trying to muster some kind of anger. Exhaustion killed any attempt of this. "The people need to know what is about to descend on them." His brother said.
"The Great Horn, it is near." the Wise One retorted, climbing the steps behind him.
It took a massive physical effort to ascend the steps. The Wise One was the first one at the summit, and he looked down a lightly forested slope leading deep into Volatauiq lake territory. They were on a plateau, and the Great Horn lay upon a plain altar. Without waiting for the others, the Wise One picked it up.
Even for an Ancient of his strength, it was difficult to pick up. He strained, lifted it to his lips, and blew.
A deep sound reverberated from the chamber and seemed to settle over the world like a blanket, bouncing from every mountain, lake and forest. To the Wise One, it appeared as if the earth shook. He felt his strength going, and the Great Horn slid from his grasp and hit the floor, him along with it. Yusai and Sigil rushed forward to support him, but he waved them away and leaned back against the altar, waiting. Listening to the echo, and then, the silence.