10-14-2016, 10:04 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-14-2016, 10:04 AM by Roger Smith.)
Slowly.
Ever so slowly.
Across the empty expanse of the pale void, the ever-living source of evil made his way. It was torturous for him to traverse such a distance on foot, his awkward, shuffling gait making the normally laborious trek into something infinitely more arduous. It was so easy to forget the trivial difficulties associated with travel when you were so accustomed to crossing entire planets in the blink of an eye. But here, now...he felt so weak. Separated from the source of his immense power. It was all he could do to maintain some semblance of his strength in this feeble, decayed body.
"Ancient Spirits...of Evil..." the ancient sorcerer growled, the words barely a whisper past his deformed, fanged maw. "Why have you taken your gifts of power...from your faithful servant?" He did not falter in his slow, steady shamble across the nexus, but his hands slowly reached up, grasping at the deep red cloak shrouding his bandaged form, pulling it closer about him, as if cold. "I...am so weak, O Ancient Spirits..." The brief moment of defiance and anger at his initial arrival had exhausted what power he did possess. Now he needed rest, in the rejuvenating embrace of his sarcophagus...but he had no such thing here. No such safe place, entombed in darkness and wrapped in a blanket of suffocating evil to replenish his spent strength.
The words of the ghost-child slowly returned to him, echoing tauntingly in his head.
A dim red glow sparked in Mumm-Ra's eyes, head slowly lowering. "...I see now. You set forth a test, Ancient Spirits... I have been placed in this foreign world, without a direct connection to your power...to see how I would fare...how I would survive until I could bring your eeeeevil to bear here..."
The hands clutching at his cloak clenched tightly, clawed fingers digging into the tattered fabric. "Very well, my dark...masters..." He lifted his head, red eyes glowing fiercely. "Mumm-Ra will not fail you." Hands dropped from his shoulders, rising to spread before him, palms facing each other. Slowly, ever so slowly, an orb of glimmering omnilium flowed together between his hands, flickering in myriad colors, each of which shone in distorted reflection in his glassy, red eyes.
Once more his hands closed around the orb, cracking and crushing it, drawing the mass toward his body.
Strength renewed by the foreign substance, the ever-living source of evil set out on his way once more, toward what he could now see was an archway, covered in or made of ice and snow, it was impossible to tell at this distance.
Ever so slowly.
Across the empty expanse of the pale void, the ever-living source of evil made his way. It was torturous for him to traverse such a distance on foot, his awkward, shuffling gait making the normally laborious trek into something infinitely more arduous. It was so easy to forget the trivial difficulties associated with travel when you were so accustomed to crossing entire planets in the blink of an eye. But here, now...he felt so weak. Separated from the source of his immense power. It was all he could do to maintain some semblance of his strength in this feeble, decayed body.
"Ancient Spirits...of Evil..." the ancient sorcerer growled, the words barely a whisper past his deformed, fanged maw. "Why have you taken your gifts of power...from your faithful servant?" He did not falter in his slow, steady shamble across the nexus, but his hands slowly reached up, grasping at the deep red cloak shrouding his bandaged form, pulling it closer about him, as if cold. "I...am so weak, O Ancient Spirits..." The brief moment of defiance and anger at his initial arrival had exhausted what power he did possess. Now he needed rest, in the rejuvenating embrace of his sarcophagus...but he had no such thing here. No such safe place, entombed in darkness and wrapped in a blanket of suffocating evil to replenish his spent strength.
The words of the ghost-child slowly returned to him, echoing tauntingly in his head.
Omni Wrote:“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours.”
A dim red glow sparked in Mumm-Ra's eyes, head slowly lowering. "...I see now. You set forth a test, Ancient Spirits... I have been placed in this foreign world, without a direct connection to your power...to see how I would fare...how I would survive until I could bring your eeeeevil to bear here..."
The hands clutching at his cloak clenched tightly, clawed fingers digging into the tattered fabric. "Very well, my dark...masters..." He lifted his head, red eyes glowing fiercely. "Mumm-Ra will not fail you." Hands dropped from his shoulders, rising to spread before him, palms facing each other. Slowly, ever so slowly, an orb of glimmering omnilium flowed together between his hands, flickering in myriad colors, each of which shone in distorted reflection in his glassy, red eyes.
Once more his hands closed around the orb, cracking and crushing it, drawing the mass toward his body.
Strength renewed by the foreign substance, the ever-living source of evil set out on his way once more, toward what he could now see was an archway, covered in or made of ice and snow, it was impossible to tell at this distance.