Her words echoed through the chamber. The corrupted Totems fed endlessly, draining the life and soul of every Viking they had touched. That power had to flow somewhere.
The most logical conclusion—and the most terrifying—was that it was being used to empower the ascension ruler of the Alien Power that had seized Valhalla.
Such entities were always seeking to pierce the veil of the universe, clawing their way into creation through blood, madness, and ruin. Every manifestation they had ever witnessed followed the same grim pattern.
The Nightmare Universe had once reduced itself to a stream of cosmic filth, slowly rebuilding its form by devouring billions.
The Dream of Madness had incubated within the corpse of a dead Primordial God, feeding on the divinity of its decaying flesh.
And the being known as The Master had risen through a ritual of bloodline sacrifice, consuming an entire ancestral house and the life force of a superior world to manifest.
