The Mountains are Calling

In the distant ancient age, the flames of civilization had yet to kindle.

On the barren and primitive Modaleng Plain, the demons of deep space stretched their writhing tentacles without restraint.

The spirits of nature clung to the shadows, hoarding their dwindling strength, fearful and silent.

I came from the other side—bearing the torch of civilization.

But the light I brought stirred more than awe; it awakened the rot.

Waves of ignorance and madness followed in its wake.

The fetid, decaying firmament blinked open its ancient, starless eye.

Yet I shall not yield.

I will shatter the chains of flesh and blood,

pierce the boundaries of thought and spirit,

and in this cursed cosmos where even the stars decay—

Let it be known:

Strangers shall never be slaves.