An immaculate chamber of obsidian, sunk deep beneath the opulent Imperial Palace of Bastile. Smooth Blackstone floors give rise to complex scientific instrumentation, casting long, distorted shadows in the dim violet glow of Rift-light. An intricate network of arcane machines hums with unstable power, their tendrils snaking around the towering containment glass that dominates the room. On one side, the scientific command center: monitors flicker with indecipherable symbols, dials spin erratically, and a thick glass wall provides a chilling view into the stasis chamber where Talyen floats, suspended in a golden cage of energy.
The Sunsations, once vibrant and indomitable, now find themselves bound to mechanized, rune-bound chairs. Cold metal restraints clamp their limbs, and thin silver coils thread into their arms, pulsing with a numbing energy that suppresses their magical abilities. Each chair vibrates with the low, persistent hum of the Clockwork Cranium network, a vast, unseen web of power that stretches above.
Through the reinforced glass, the sight is both mesmerizing and horrifying. Talyen, arms outstretched, floats in a golden stasis tube, an ethereal figure besieged by wild energies. Rift-lightning dances around him, and elemental auras coil and uncoil like spectral serpents. Above, the Clockwork Cranium dominates the space, a grotesque amalgamation of metal and arcane power. Synchronized arcs of light erupt across its surface, and tendrils of energy burrow into Talyen's neck and spine, creating a ghastly connection.
Around the Sunsations, the scientific team is a whirlwind of frantic activity and despair.
Arielle Valorum, her usually immaculate crimson braid half undone, watches the containment monitors with trembling hands. Tears streak her face, leaving trails in the grime. "This isn't what Leopold would've wanted," she whispers, her voice breaking. "But it's too late. The transfer has already begun."
Engineer Richter, his brow furrowed with concentration, methodically adjusts the dials of a complex console. "The system is stabilizing... for now," he mutters. "Unless someone forces a shutdown, the brain will finish the transfer." He glances up, a flicker of unease in his eyes. "Though... it might be too late to stop it fully. The Emperor... his consciousness... it's already begun to mesh with the Crannium. It cannot be truly separated now…"
Enknie’ak, utterly panicked, fumbles with a clipboard, papers spilling to the floor. "I—I think one of the coils is loose—oh dear…"
And gazing through the shielded glass, six gleaming figures stand sentinel. The Knights of the Krakenstone, fully armored, their visages hidden behind polished helms, watch the scene with an unnerving silence. Their armor hums faintly with hidden power.
Log #0174 — Project Infinity Coil
Transcription of Professor Arielle Valorum, Lead Scientist of the Clockwork Cranium, Rift Interface Authority, Bastilian High Academy of Theoretical Arcanum
"If you’re hearing this… then the Cranium has either completed its function—or failed so catastrophically that nothing remains but ash.
I did not set out to build a god. Only to bridge the fracture between man and machine.
A mind of infinite precision… housed within a vessel of logic and steel… a synthetic consciousness immune to corruption, bias, emotion.
And yet—
There is a flaw in perfection.
A pulse. A person.
When we linked the Rift energies to the Continuum Core, it began dreaming. Sketching fractals no human hand had traced. Rearranging logic into lattice. It did not speak, but it knew. It wanted.
The Emperor—he saw clarity in that desire. A vessel to transcend mortality.
Talyen...
I’m sorry. I tried to shut it down. I did. But they had already fed you to the system.
The mind they call the Cranium is no longer mine to unmake. It is no longer ours at all.
If you find this... destroy it. Not because you hate what it has become,
but because you love what you might yet be.
Order is not control. Order is choice—earned. Not dictated.
End recording."
Lucius Wargrym
(Lucius growls in a low voice, gravel-edged, and unwavering, as he places the tip of his greatsword against the steel floor and rests both gauntleted hands on its pommel)
“You speak of regret, Professor.
Of what your machine has become.
But the truth is this: It became what it was always meant to be.
You wove a god from copper and calculus, and now we kneel before its shape—not out of fear, but faith.
Faith in Order.
The world has burned beneath the whims of mad mages and sorcerers for far too long.
And you—Sunsations—you would drag us back into that chaos.
What is a soul, if not a shackle? What is freedom, if not entropy dressed in virtue’s rags?
The Emperor saw what you could not, Valorum. He saw that the Cranium could not balance the elements. It should overwrite them.
As for Talyen...
He is not your comrade. Not your brother.
He is a vessel. A fulcrum upon which this broken world might finally tilt into harmony.
So make no mistake—
Whatever righteousness you believe you hold, you will not stop what has already begun.
The Cranium pulses. The Rift sings.
And soon, there shall be no more chaos.
Only... design.”
Lucius Wargrym, his armor whirring with the subtle energy of Rift-magnets, steps forward. His voice is as cold and hard as obsidian. "Progress is never painless. But it is righteous. Kneel now—and let order endure. The new Immortal Order of Man, wrought from Machine and Empire, shall bring forth true peace. You bear witness to its dawn... and you will become part of it."
The other knights, silent and unmoving, form a semi-circle before Lucius as they kneel in prayer.
As Shanara tries to resist, scientists trigger the Neural Sync Pulse: A jolt of raw energy surges through the silver coils, causing agony.
Alarms blare and pulse red, casting streaks of crimson across the steel-veined walls of the observatory.
One of the Bastilian scientists—nameless behind the matte-black gasmask and the glinting golden kraken on his hazmat cowl—lunges across the dais, fingers outstretched toward a bronze-plated lever marked IMPERIAL OVERRIDE.
His boots screech against the grated floor.
Arielle mumbles something incoherent. Richter hesitates.
And time holds its breath.
But Marquellin moves.
With a flick of his wrist, the sigils around his gloves flare with amethyst incandescence—transmutation glyphs twisting into new geometries as he steps forward like a shadow breaking free of its source.
His voice is calm. Cold.
“Bastile has built its future atop stolen thought. Let it choke on the consequences... and suffocate all of you on your own aspirations.”
From his palm, a spear of coalesced Rift energy howls into being—jagged and violet-blue, buzzing with impossible equations mid-etch. He hurls it with surgeon’s precision.
The bolt explodes through the scientist’s spine, tearing clean through reinforced armor and scattering shards of ceramic plate and misted blood across the viewport wall.
The body jerks once—then crumples against the console, slumped over the controls with smoke rising from the cauterized hole through its chest.
No scream. No last words. Just the twitch of a gloved hand still inches from the lever.
Marquellin lowers his outstretched hand, and turns to the Sunsations.
“The age of silent complicity ends now.”, "The Cabal does not serve tyrants. Be free."
And with that, the unveiled Magus jams the lever to override the containment field as anti-magic wards fracture above like shattering glass—restraints unclasping from the Sunsations as a battle begins for survival.
As the battle rages, the containment chamber begins to show signs of strain. Talyen’s energies grow increasingly volatile, causing equipment to spark and fail. Explosions rock the chamber, and cracks spiderweb across the containment glass. The very fabric of the room seems to warp around Talyen's destabilizing aura.
After an enraged Endsworth knocks Enknie’ak out and then begins to strike Valorum, she wails in plea. "The Cranium is too far gone," she cries, "but if you destroy the central conductor in its spinal unit—it’ll shut down the whole system." She adds, voice heavy with sorrow, “Though…. it will not stop the transfer, it’s too late for that… but we can stop it spreading”.
"I care not about what you do to me now... but please spare Richter..."
Talyen's energies grew wildly unstable, causing equipment malfunctions, energy surges, pressure breaches, and magnetic anomalies. The room threatened to implode.
Yet, still the battle raged in the observatory.
- As the fight continued, the containment glass would get shattered as Ser Grigori von Stein threw Shanara through the protective barrier.
- Captain Sylas de Vayne would soon after be killed by Josu who broke his spike with a flurry of unseen punches.
- Kairus would push his way against the argent flow of rift energy at his own peril to destroy the clockwork conductor and finally free Talyen.
- Ser Grigori woud be knocked out and his head hit clean off in an open palm strike by Endsworth.
- Ser Mathis Braun was banished by Rev. Irving Fishbourne as he tried to block his path of escape into the rift.
- Magus Marquellin would hold open the Rift portal just long enough for the Sunsations to escape, but also allowing Dorian/Albrecht/Richter/Lucius through as well.
The first crack shatters the silence like a scream through glass.
The Clockwork Conductor convulses—sparks erupting from its neural filaments as the central cog, the machine’s intellect core, collapses inward. The brass-and-obsidian construct spasms, exhaling a final, mechanical shriek. Its severed cords flail wildly in the air like dying spiders, and then—
Detonation.
The stasis chamber shatters in a plume of cascading Riftlight. Shards of golden glass whirl outward like molten meteors as containment fails. Within, Talyen is no longer a man—his body suspended midair, arms outstretched, head bowed. Raw elemental chaos floods the room.
- Fire dances like serpents across his limbs
- Water churns in suspended spirals around him
- Wind screeches through the breach, howling like a chorus of spirits
- Stone orbits his torso in sacred geometric rings
And behind it all—a growing storm of violet Riftfire pulses like a second heart.
Screams and sirens blare. The lights flicker. A tremor shudders through the entire observatory.
The chamber begins to fall inward.
Pipes rupture with hissing jets of scalding steam. Rift conduits burst like veins, spraying violet lightning across the crumbling floor. Scientific terminals melt into slag, sucked into the growing gravitational well forming around Talyen.
Marquellin, cloak flaring with Rift energy, turns to the Sunsations. His voice is sharp and electric with urgency.
“The Rift! GO! It’s collapsing on itself—we have seconds!”
Behind him, the portal pulses—a distorted vortex of unstable space, crackling and shuddering. It flashes violently between shapes and colors, spiraling uncontrollably. It is barely holding form.
Suddenly—a blade erupts from Marquellin’s chest.
The scream of metal shears through the chaos as Lucius Wargrym, half-burned, impossibly alive, drives his greatsword through his spine. The goliath’s face is a mask of fury and devotion—one eye swollen shut, his jaw cracked, blood soaking his armor.
“You defy order…” Lucius growls through clenched teeth.
“Then be undone by the fury of its faithful.”
He shoves the body aside like refuse. Marquellin’s corpse crumples beneath the altar of science. The rift flickers, sputtering.
The remaining Knights rise from ruin. Battered, limping, bleeding—they are still unbroken (Dorian/Albrecht/Lucius).
They surge forward—not as warriors—but as avatars of a dying empire.
The Sunsations rush toward the Rift—and leap.
Behind them—
Talyen opens his eyes.
Golden. Violet. Infinite.
His arms rise.
The energies collapse.
And then—
The chamber folds into itself, not exploding but collapsing, warping space around it. Reality bends. Steel implodes like parchment. Flames and Rift converge in a single breathless point.
Then, in silence—
A supernova.
Talyen absorbs the annihilation. A blinding vortex of light and elemental force wraps around him. No screams. No more alarms. Just the yawning pull of gravity breaking.
And then, like stars torn apart in reverse—
He erupts.
The Rift, now a narrowing tunnel, is held open by the last of Marquellin’s magic—his Riftstaff crackling where it fell. The Sunsations, thrown forward like comets, dive into the blinding spiral of salvation.
Behind them, Bastile’s greatest mind collapses into myth.
Talyen’s silhouette is the last thing they see—
Wreathed in flame, shadow, stone, and storm.
His arms wide.
His soul aflame.
And then the rift slams shut—
And all is silence.
Fall to Mt. Rath
The Sunsations plunge through the Rift, finding themselves in a terrifying freefall.
Setting: They fall through choking ashen clouds, the air thick with smoke and a fierce heat emanating from below. Far beneath them, a glowing orb becomes visible, rapidly growing larger. It's the maw of an active volcano, spewing molten magma into the air like a hellish fountain. The sky is a swirl of orange and black, illuminated by the infernal glow of the lava. The heat is suffocating, and the air crackles with static electricity.
As they fall, bursts of magma shoot into the air. Molten rock arcs past them, leaving trails of smoke and fire.
The Knights maintain their pursuit even through freefall into certain death... Albrecht Kaine rifles off shots of his revolvers wildly as Lucius plummets towards Talyen. Dorian seizes the opportunity to grab Richter and rift out of danger to repay a favor from long ago...
As they approach the maw, gravity begins to fluctuate, then stops completely. They drift slowly down, suspended above the lava. Suddenly weightless, they float in the fiery air, the rules of reality bending and breaking. Molten bursts flow smoothly around them like viscous, fiery water. And then they see it: at the heart of the volcano, where the magma reveals the very core, lies a great, radiant stone—a yellow amethyst, pulsing with light. This is the Sunstone, one of the primordial Worldstones. It glows with an intense inner fire, casting dancing shadows across the lava and the floating figures. From the volcano's heart, Ember beings to emerge...
As they drift closer, they see Talyen levitating just before the Sunstone. He reaches towards it, and the gravitational disruption intensifies. They witness the visage of an ancient Solir (sun elf) avatar—Avatar Rozan the First—with golden/fiery red robes and hair, golden eyes speaking to Talyen as their hands touch on opposite sides of the crystalline ether. Rozan's form flickers like a flame, and his voice is like the crackling of fire. Inside the crystal, they see an elemental plane of pure energy and fire, and a phoenix rising from the volcanic fire, as if being reborn from the ashes. The phoenix’s wings spread in a blaze of glory, casting light and heat into the surrounding space.
"I walk the Path of the Four Elements," Talyen proclaims, his voice echoing across the lava, "but it is a path I must forge anew. None have walked this way before. The world must change. It must be reshaped into elemental elysium. Only then can true harmony be achieved." His eyes burn with an intense, almost frightening light. His form begins to shimmer with elemental power, the energies of fire, air, water, and earth swirling around him.
The Immortal Order
Suddenly, blinding searchlights cut through the volcanic smoke and ash. Dozens of powerful beams sweep across the fiery maw, converging on Talyen’s form. A vast fleet of Imperial Frigates appears in the swirling smoke-filled sky. These are no ordinary airships; they are formidable engines of war. Sleek, obsidian hulls gleam with a dark, menacing luster, their great sails fashioned from a strange, black-gold material that seems to drink the light. Rift rail-cannons protrude from their flanks, crackling with unstable energy. Manning the decks are figures clad in imposing armor: Kraken Rift-Marines, their faces hidden behind menacing golden kraken masks/respirators, and their backs burdened with humming rift-charged packs. The ships maneuver with unsettling precision, moving as a unified, deadly organism.
Each frigate is equipped with a colossal Rift-Nova Gauss Cannon, their ominous barrels now trained directly on Talyen. Then, the air crackles with the static of dozens of loudspeakers activating in unison. A chilling, mechanical voice booms across the volcano, impossibly loud, impossibly clear—the Immortal Emperor, somehow, still lives.
"Sunsations," the voice resonates, each syllable precise and emotionless, like the grinding of gears, "you have strained and struggled for too long, haven't you? You have fought against The Tides of Khaos that threatens to consume this plane… But you misunderstand. Order is not a mere suggestion; it is a necessity. The final equation… it is nearing its inevitable solution. What you witness here is merely the unveiling of the ultimate solution. Progress is never painless, but it is always purposeful."
The Emperor continues, his tone now a chillingly flat calculation, "Manifest destiny… made divine. I have given my blood, sweat, tears… and now my own mind into the very being of Bastile. of EMPIRE. Into every Clockwork Automaton, every servitor, every node of the Cranium Network. You thought me confined to a single mind? I am… ubiquitous. You wished to hurl the world into 'chaos'? You shall have it. For only through such disruption can the final, perfect order emerge. You wanted Khaos? Then I shall grant you the Khaos you so desire, for it now serves a grander design. An ultimate end of true lasting order, peace, and control."
A deafening rift eruption sound tears through the air as the frigates unleash their weapons. A concentrated barrage of pure, raw Rift energy slams into the volcano. The very stone liquefies into incandescent slag, rivers of molten rock flowing and erupting with increasing violence. But even more shockingly, as the party falls deeper through the magma they begin to see the form of Ember, the great phoenix form, already struggling and wounded from the previous blast slowly rising, it’s very being made of the molten fire they plummet through. Then a second volley strikes the sunstone dead center, the resulting explosion a supernova of light and heat. The heart of the volcano convulses, throwing shards of radiant yellow amethyst into the air like deadly projectiles, and the very air ignites.
Suddenly, it is not just the Sunstone that is affected. A cataclysmic cutscene unfolds, spanning the breadth of the world, illustrating the nigh-ending of everything they know.
- In a vast, subterranean forge, deep beneath the planet's crust in Grimhold, the Earthstone, a massive fulcrum of obsidian veined with the ores that run through the world's core, shatters. The impact echoes like the cracking of a planet, sending shockwaves that ripple through the ground. The very earth convulses as mountains crumble and volcanoes erupt in unison. Chasms tear open, belching forth smoke and ash, and the sky turns a choking, blood-red as seismic energy wreaks havoc.
- High above the world, on an alpine lake nestled within the pristine peaks of Aerenal, the last island haven of the Vanir (high elves) to the south of the Serrakhan sands, the Etherstone, a swirling vortex of crystalline air hovering above the lake’s surface, shatters. The tranquil lake boils and evaporates instantly, replaced by a swirling vortex of unimaginable power. The sky above Aeranel tears open, unleashing winds that scour the land and lightning that fractures the very air.
- In the abyssal depths of the ocean, where light has never touched, the Seastone, a vast, bioluminescent orb pulsing with the rhythm of the tides, shatters. The ocean floor trembles and cracks, unleashing unimaginable pressures. Gigantic tsunamis rise, swallowing coastlines in seconds, while whirlpools form that drag entire islands beneath the waves. The very waters boil and churn, unleashing a tempest of apocalyptic proportions.
With the shattering of the Worldstones, the corresponding Archon are unleashed in their primordial form, their shackled essence breaking free and bursting forth as colossal, rampaging elemental titans. The sheer scale of their awakening devastates the world, and their existence brings to the forefront the culmination of the imminent destruction.
- Ember, the Archon of the Sun, now a blazing form made from the very magma they fall through, transforms into a colossal being of pure, raging fire. Ember’s cry is a searing wave of heat that vaporizes anything it touches. Its wings beat like solar flares, and its eyes burn with the intensity of dying stars. Trails of solar fire arc across the sky, igniting the atmosphere.
- Bjorn, the Archon of the Earth, becomes a mountain of living, flowing lava, his roars a deep, earth-shaking rumble that causes the ground to buckle and split. Crystalline spines of obsidian jut from his back, dripping with molten rock, and his eyes glow with white-hot intensity. Each step leaves a trail of destruction, turning the landscape into a moving tidal wave of molten earth.
- Zirael (aka Goldbrand), the Archon of the Ether, a majestic, golden dragon of burning radiance and arcing electricity, its body a living tempest, its voice a chorus of thunder and wind. Its scales shimmer with auroral light, and its eyes burn with the intensity of a thousand bolts. It soars through the sky, trailing storms and bolts of lightning as a maelstrom of no equal proportion blots out the sun and the stars…
- Mythia, the Archon of the Sea, rises from the deepest trenches, a leviathan of scales and sea-wracked coral, her shell a living island, her song a mournful, echoing lament that resonates across the ravaged oceans. Her eyes glow with the eerie, cold light of the abyss, and her breath creates hurricane-force winds and waves that drown continents.
A chain reaction begins, elemental forces clashing and surging, tearing the world apart with unprecedented ferocity. Natural disasters become magnified tenfold, becoming supernatural events. Talyen, watching the unleashing of the Archons, a terrible clarity flooding his features, speaks one final, reminiscent monologue to the party.
Path of the Four Elements
“It was never about us… It was always this… The elements. The heart of the world, what we’ve been trying to save…” His voice is filled with a profound sadness and finality. “I see it now. I understand. This was always how it had to be.” He closes his eyes for a moment, remembering the journey, the trials, the people they met. He feels a strange, bittersweet sense of acceptance, a deep ache for what was lost and what could have been. “I know what must be done. I know who I am.”
As chaotic energy explodes around them, tearing at the very fabric of reality, Talyen moves with an almost ethereal grace. He approaches each Archon in turn. We now have a quick cutscene of each Archon bowing its great head in respect to Talyen, as if recognizing a kindred spirit, a master, a force of change they acknowledge. Talyen places a hand on each colossal titan, his touch seeming to calm their primal rage, if only for a fleeting moment. Then, a brilliant flash of light erupts around him, a singularity of energy that seems to consume everything – the Archons, the chaos, the very elements of existence. The world around the party goes blindingly white, a pure, all-consuming light, and then… utter, consuming blackness.
The next moment, they awaken. They find themselves lying on a cold, smooth surface, in a cavern of pure, deep onyx crystal. The air is still and heavy, and the only light comes from a faint, ethereal glow emanating from the walls themselves, casting dancing reflections in the polished stone. The silence is profound, absolute. The very air feels charged with an ancient, unspoken power, a sense of profound transition and mystery. Where are they? What has happened to the world? And what awaits them in this strange, crystalline abyss? The questions hang heavy in the air, unanswered.
A slow, disoriented awakening. Blinking, the Sunsations find themselves lying on a smooth, cold surface, the disorientation of the previous events fading into a hazy memory. But as their vision clears, they realize this is no ordinary place. They are in a vast cavern, but of an utterly alien design. The walls are made of a glossy, deep onyx crystal, but what makes them truly extraordinary are the veins that run through the stone. These are not mere mineral deposits; they are constellations—glowing, swirling patterns of luminescent ore, like tiny galaxies trapped within the rock. The light from these veins illuminates the space with a soft, ethereal glow, and reflected in their glassy surfaces, the distant, unreachable cosmos seems to hang above them, a dizzying expanse of stars.
The cavern is irregularly shaped, as if it doesn’t belong in this plane of existence, perhaps a piece of another dimension brought here by some unknown cosmic force. There’s no visible entrance or exit, just a large, domed space that seems to stretch into infinity. In the very center, a titanic crystal dominates the scene. It’s a deep, vibrant purple, larger than any building, and it pulses with an inner light. Standing before this crystal is Talyen. But he’s changed. His form is sweltering with raw, argent Rift energy, like a miniature star held within a mortal shell. His eyes burn with the pure, electric purple of Rift lightning, and veins of the same purple, interwoven with radiant gold, now trace patterns across his body. He is no longer just a man—he seems infused with the very fabric of cosmic power.
Talyen’s gaze is fixed upon something within the titanic purple crystal. Gazing into its depths, the party see not solid crystal, but rather a seemingly endless, swirling cosmic ether container. Within it, galaxies unfold unto themselves in accelerated time, nebulae dance, and stars are born and die in flashes of light. It's as if he's watching the universe itself in miniature, perceiving the secrets of creation and destruction in a single, endless moment.
As the Sunsations struggle to sit up, they notice that they are not alone. Standing around the periphery of the cavern are ten figures clad in gleaming silver armor. The armor is unlike anything they've seen before, intricately engraved with charts of constellations, each star point glowing with a faint light. And each of these figures possesses the same distinctive eyes as Talyen: a piercing, argent purple. These are the Order of the Silverbourne.
A tall, imposing figure steps forward. He wears a helm shaped like a star and introduces himself as Siegfried, their leader. Beside him, a woman with a calm, steady presence, Sana, explains that they have been protecting The Continuum Crystal—the “Argent Heart of the Cosmos”—since the dawn of the Fifth Age, following the Third Continuum Crisis. Their duty is to ensure the stability of reality, a task entrusted to them long ago by forces they still do not fully comprehend.
Sana further explains they work closely with the Talons of the Timeless Tome, former Mythar from the Second Age, the Twilight of Creation. They were cursed by Valekith into Sconosciuto and have been tirelessly striving to both stop him as well as fully mend the Continuum Crystal by collecting the Infinity Shards, slaying any revenant titans spawned by them, and returning the shards to fully mend the continuum once and for all. Yet, now they appear as they once were... Radiant and resplendent descendants of the Hosts of Helion.
At that moment, a tall Mythar with star-charted purple robes and a monocle steps forward. This is Orion. With a wave of his hand, he opens multiple rifts in the air around him, small tears in reality that shimmer with iridescent light. From these rifts, he procures three shards—fragments of something vast and powerful, glowing with trapped cosmic energy. With a silent gesture, he floats the shards towards the titanic purple crystal, guiding them into crevasse-like fissures that run across its surface. As each shard enters the crystal, a pulse of energy washes through the cavern, and the crystal seems to mend itself, the cracks closing and disappearing. Talyen places his hands firmly upon the crystal with an intensity that fills every corner of the cave with an aura of argent rift, acting as a conduit for this mending.
Then, a deafening silence falls, broken only by a high-pitched ringing in their ears. The Sunsations feel their minds being pulled, stretched thin across an infinite expanse. They are swept through an endless continuum of stars, cosmic creation, destruction, singularity, all unfolding in an instantaneous moment. They witness the birth of galaxies, the collision of worlds, the dance of nebulae, all at once. The very fabric of existence seems to unravel and then reweave itself before their eyes.
In this surreal moment, they hear one final line from Talyen, a whisper that resonates with the weight of a thousand lifetimes: "It was never mine to tread... Yours is the Path of Four"
Then, a powerful voice cuts through the chaos, a voice that feels as ancient as time itself. Ael.
"Forge-heart of creation. Spark in the infinite void. Stars are born, galaxies draw their first breath. Dream-shape of gods and the destinies of mortals. This anvil upon which I labor is the nexus of all realities. Time bends, and space folds. Here, the echoes of the past merge with the whispers of the future. I am Ael, and this… is my work. This is the song of the stars, the symphony of existence. Listen… and you will hear the universe sing." (see: The Continuum of Creation).
As Ael speaks, the Sunsations see him. An elder god made of stars, his form a luminous silhouette against the cosmic canvas, he stands at a massive star-anvil, hammering at the fabric of reality itself. Stars scatter from the anvil like sparks, and the swirling gases of creation dance around him. It's a vision of primal power, of the very act of making the universe.
Then, the vision snaps away. They are pulled back through the infinitum, the cosmic images fading and replaced by the familiar, though still awe-inspiring, sight of the onyx crystal cavern. The titanic purple crystal in the center is now whole and perfect, glowing with a steady, unwavering light. But Talyen is gone. Vanished without a trace.
And then they know, without being told. All avatars, archons, and Worldstones have returned to the elements themselves. The primordial forces are no longer bound, no longer shackled. The world is free, changed, and perhaps... far more volatile than ever before. The age of the Empire is over. The age of something entirely new has begun.
The Order of the Silverbourne watches them, their eyes filled with a quiet understanding. They will explain what they can, but some truths are beyond words. The Sunsations have witnessed the heart of the cosmos, and their lives will never be the same. The journey is over, but the story... the story has only just begun.