On the other side of The Veil.
A massive, oval, white-obsidian vessel floated through the silent, starless void.
It was The Ashen Ark of Judgment, its surface as smooth and as cold as a polished tombstone.
Upon its vast, flat deck, a legion of The Dead stood in perfect, silent formation. There was no chaotic aura, no mindless rage. There was only a profound, chilling sense of Order.
At the forefront stood Tatiana, her dark hair a stark, beautiful contrast to the pale, deathly perfection of her skin.
Around her, other Dead Early Creatures stood as silent sentinels, and behind them, in hundreds of perfect rows, were Dead Existential Armors, their obsidian-black forms radiating a silent, contained power!
The air was thick with a regality that was both beautiful and utterly terrifying.
The Ashen Ark approached a Tear of The Veil, a jagged, weeping wound in the fabric of their reality.
