The moment the Primordial Demons died… the world knew.
No one could say for certain how the whispers began.
Perhaps it was the scattered remnants of their once-glorious demon legions—families now broken, demons weeping, officiers gnashing teeth, their infernal crests dimming to ash. Or maybe it was the opportunists, the wandering souls who always knew how to turn chaos into currency. Expecially those pirates of the void.
But by the next celestial dawn, the news had spread like wildfire across the cosmos.
---
Across the stars
On the ice-covered world of Naar'Goth, crystal-bodied giants stood around their aurora-lit campfires, speaking in slow, grinding tones.
"The Demons are gone," one rumbled. "After eons… finally gone."
Another raised a frost-chiseled chalice, and their guttural song of victory echoed through the night.
---
In the emerald jungles of Vyrra, the insectoid Vyrn Queens trembled in their hives, antennae brushing across glowing spores that pulsed with gossip.
