Editing Warhammer 60K: Age of Dusk (Continued) (section)

==Interlude: Sundered Sphere, a Fragmentary Account==


<div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">[Compiler’s Note: This is a fragmentary section fro-'''[REDACTED]''' Saga, found etched on one of the major internal faces of the '''[REDACTED]'''-rld device. 

Provenance: Unknown. 

Period of Composition: Unknown

Subject: Speculative (cros ref. ''Last Good Man'')]<div class="mw-collapsible-content">

From the cold prison they wriggled free, shed their iron bodies and stole hollowed flesh of ter-an flesh. But the wordless king had not slain his children all in vain. For he had a plan, set in place should the walls of the real come crashing down. Before the first great sleep, the jackal had driven its own sibling into madness.

So subdued, the mirrored men of the wordless king bade the mad god build its own prison, and they reinforced it with endless bonds. And the silvered mirror men learned much from the deranged one; she who no longer knew herself. Believing herself a blessed mother, she taught her apparent children the way to build the great devices; the swords that would shatter Star-Hungry Ymgar, and all his lesser brothers. The swords were wielded, such as we all know now.

Then, the Outsider, she/that who/which was named traitor, was subdued and sealed within the prison. Her/its lonely hollow home, her/its mind turned inward, and her/its cosmic powers were bent to craft such wonders, mortals would weep and lose their minds. The prison was burrowed out and plunged into the formless space. There was no sea of souls, no labyrinth down there. It was another place, sealed from all the outside. The outsider surrounded this miraculous inside. The sphere existed outside the bounds of warped realms and material planes. A pearl of null coldness to ward off the storm.

The Wordless King remembered this prison, long eons afterwards. He realized that, even as dissolution came to all the worlds of the outside, so the inside would be preserved; for the sphere of binding was a most excellent prison, but an even greater haven. If he could reach it with his men, he could start his race again, in a realm where they were the only life, a place where they could be untroubled by strife and the Ne{weep-for-us}. His fellow liberated mirror-men, however, realized that, with bodies of flesh, not living steel, the outside sphere’s crazed guardian would not recognize their new, ter-an forms. 

Thus, the bitter king whispered into the Outsider’s troubled dreams. He whispered how her children were no longer me of cold metal, but bright-eyed living beings. He made her dream of the ter’an form, so that she might recognise them when they arrived.

Alas, the mirror-men were waylaid on their journey to the outside sphere by one of their own; the rebel Lord of the Tempest, who meant to take the orrery for his own. Upon the orrery, they fought, and they-'''[REDACTED]'''

Imote'''[REDACTED]'''

'''[REDACTED]'''- while they fought, the Wordles king could not have known others came to his sphere first. These men were mortal creatures, many of whom were ter’an. Upon seeing the ter’an, and after feeling the Last G'''[MISSING]'''an walk upon Her god’s skin, the Madness Let Them In. 

The Sphere was Sundered, and those who rejected the grim spectre of the Dissolution, reached the miraculous inside.

But salvation and safety are not so easy to secure. For upon opening the sphere, the sphere, albeit briefly, became visible to all the dark multitudes of the warring, collapsing galaxy. Just as they believed themselves safe, the disciples of the Last Good Man found they had to '''[SECTION MISSING]'''
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