The Hollow shuddered as three powerful presences entered it, and the sight that awaited them shook them to the core.
A being of silver flame whose aura was steadily rising stood with a blade of fire, not far from him was the broken body of Death, and at his feet were the broken bodies of Elgorath and Xyris.
Eos had stood and fought with the Ancient Primordials in the most primal way possible, using just his blade and his fist, and he had stood champion over them.
The Primordial of Memory was a crumpled heap of golden wreckage, chest carved open, golden light leaking in fitful spurts like a dying sun. His wings were tattered rags, feathers scattering in the hollow's stale wind that held the last cries of shattered Origin Forces, each one carrying a fragment of forgotten agony that whispered as it dissolved.
