==THE HALLS OF MANDOS==
The manse before Indis, mother of the House of Finarfin, loomed on a bare hill, rocky and scrub-laden, made like a skull. Its gates were black and its doors were rarely opened. The Halls of Mandos did not accept visitors lightly. But still, she would not have rode from Tirion upon the hill of Tuna if she had not been willing to bear anything imaginable. Dismounting the steed and knocking on the gates, they opened silently and smoothly before her. She continued, walking on the marble path, looking over the gardens of beautiful roses - white, red, black - that stretched before her. Eventually she came to the door. Silently, it opened and she stepped into the darkness of the mansion itself.
The walls were brilliant porphyry, rose-red lanterns shining over black-veined violet marble hung with Vaire's tapestries - worldsheets she had heard them called, and the name was not in jest.
In one, a great tower, a fortress fallen in the last of Endor's high years, a citadel of the Enemy's servant laid low by one whose resting-place was one of the only graves in Valinor, slid to destruction. Pinnacle upon cruel pinnacle fell down unstoppably to ruin; barracks crumbling down onto each other, towers sliding down like falling hills, battlements collapsing, torture-pits black with lamentation laid open, eyeless watchers shrieking mindlessly and gates like vast fanged mouths clenching shut forever as the structure fell onto itself in a ruin that seemed more a mountain collapsing than any tower falling. Despite the grand panorama, it was incomprehensibly detailed, as if she was looking into the actual event. She could see in the distance a mountain erupting with sudden fire, and it seemed that as she looked more and more detail revealed itself wherever her eyes found themselves, so that what seemed to be a mere rift in the mountain showed itself as a doorway with molten fire pouring out, and two halflings, their features perfectly portrayed, climbing upon a spur of rock as three eagles swept down in rescue, the western wind vanishing the last shreds of darkness and letting the golden-
-the worldsheet rippled, and out stepped a woman - very tall, her brilliant sun-gold hair done up neatly, wearing a red dress that covered her modestly. The way she walked and the brilliant - impossible to veil - gleam in her eyes told her name and her office - Vairë the Weaver, Valië and wife of Mandos.
"My apologies," Indis said, uncertain how to deal with this intrusion. "I did not-"
"That is no matter," said Mandos' wife. "I was looking from the Meneltarma, which is perished, upon the farmlands of Andunie before the Downfall, and from the pinnacle of Silvertine upon Lorien while its beauty had not yet been washed away by the years, and on countless other wonderful places."
"My position was undetermined until you saw me," she explained. "It is fortunate that you did, mother of Finarfin. What business do you have with my husband?"
Indis spoke.
"Let us see what his doom is," said the other, and led her through the mansion. It was far larger than last time Indis had gone here - but the mansion outside was still always the same. There were now many miles and miles of winding corridors spiralling inward to the days of the First Age and the wars fought then against the Enemy. Eventually they reached two doors to left and right, a central door between them.
"Not till the Doom comes will these doors ever be opened," said Indis, holding out her hands to either side of her. "One of the Children therein is a Man who could not leave for want of vengeance, and one is of the Eldar who is bound within until he fulfills his confinement. But we shall see what my husband says over this matter."
The central door opened into a cave. A window to the west let in light from the sun beginning its afternoon descent, and in the centre stood a grim black-haired man on an onyx throne that seemed grown out of the living rock.
"Speak," said the man on the throne. Holding his head in his hands he seemed greatly tired despite his seeming youth.
Indis made her petition.
"He will not go out until the Doom is come. But that is only a little while. Soon the sign of its coming will be seen and all Arda will know then that the Last Struggle is commenced. It is not right now, but it is soon. It will last long and be almost unbearable. More I cannot say."
"Look to the West," he finished, a tone of urgency creeping into his voice.
At that moment the sky started to scream.
==VALIMAR==
Away in Valimar the rest of many thousands was cut short by a torturous sound from the West. It was harsh, loud and grating beyond all measure. It tortured the ears - sounding like the wailing screech of some primordial monster, like music played out of harmony and creating cacophony beyond all measure, like- words cannot properly describe the sound. It was horror and fear and chaos and disharmony and confusion and pure evil all at once.
Eyes turned to the west, all saw a crack forming just above the Gates of Night - a wound in the world far larger than the one that had been there before - some of Varda's stars had even been swallowed, ripped apart and guttered out in the malevolent unlight that lurked behind the sky.
Then they realised what it had meant, and the fear only grew.
==THE WEST==
There was a Tree in this garden, beautiful and radiant. Its leaves reflected and magnified the sunlight above it and great winds blew in its leaves and its roots drank deep of great rivers and the good earth. Upon it were countless images of animals which lived, or had, in Endor and Valinor - the unicorn, the lion, the eagle, the deer and countless others in minute detail, so many that to reckon them was beyond any mortal lifetime. Under the tree, on a slab of rock, sat a woman dressed in a long green dress with gold hair that flew in the breezes and bare feet that pressed on the earth and bathed in the water.
Both the tree and the woman were Kementari, but they were not separate individuals. All the Valar did this to an extent - Manwe's power flew in the airs and with the thunder-clouds and the great birds, Ulmo's essence was in mountain streams and spring rains and deep dark currents under the sea, and Morgoth, most wretchedly of all, had set his malevolence inside all of Arda - save here.
Right now Kementari was examining a young fawn, killed but half an hour after the sky-wound and the wretched hateful noise of the world breaking. A tear ran down her face. It should not have been targeted by a predator - those that lived in Valinor killed only the very old, occasionally others when numbers reached excess - and such was not happening right now. Morgoth had done this. He had not made the killing blow, but by his will he had made it happen. Blood had been shed unjustly in Valinor after long years of peace. Morgoth was preparing his attack.
+++JUNE 17TH 2012+++
==INLAND CHINA==
The earthquake that came last night had been unexpected. The fault lines had been stable for years and nothing had been forecasted. Then it had struck in a rolling wave of torn-up earth and buildings. Dozens of villages had been obliterated, hundreds more had been devastated beyond recovery. For six hours the earth had torn itself apart then stopped.
That was not the last disaster that had struck. Wildfires had suddenly burst out in California and were sweeping towards Los Angeles with impossible speed. Hundreds of minor shocks had been reported across the planet as well. Sudden freak storms were breaking out, veering in wild trajectories that nevertheless seemed calculated to hurt civilians. Etna was extending feelers of smoke.
And of course what mattered the most was reported the least. A small but not-insignificant part of the northern hemisphere's skies had suddenly gone dark last night, nebulae, stars, galaxies disappearing and leaving just a patch of blackness in their wake. Other stars had immediately started blazing brighter in defiance to all laws of physics.
The world was breaking down.