In a secret plane somewhere in Europa, a land touched by death and decay stretched endlessly. At its center, a black Magus tower rose from the ground like a spear, piercing the skies of this mystical dimension.
On the top floor of this tower was a throne room, vast, oppressive, shrouded in darkness. Rows of black stone pillars supported the chamber, their rough surfaces marred by the passage of time.
At the far end of the throne room, on a raised dais, stood an obsidian throne. Upon it sat a lich in dark robes, wearing a black crown, his skeletal frame draped in stygian, ominous energy.
This was the most powerful Magus on Tron.
This was… the leader of the Cult of Bones.
Flanking him on either side, four figures stood below the dais. Draped in hooded robes and radiating vast and powerful auras, these were the Elders of the Inner Circle, each at the peak of the Mana Core Rank.
They stood silent and motionless, their gaze fixed on the man kneeling before the throne.
