Prophecy of the HandEdit
One night I dreamed.
A darkness once dormant - patiently waiting - was now emerging from the shadows.
A light growing brighter from beyond a dark chasm, wrapping around a pillar stained with ancient symbols.
Many millions of shrieks and screams engulfed me where I stood until I felt the burn rise up from the floor and it too consumed me.
My soul ripped from my shell was flattened and became a pathway. It became a link between the ancient world and my reality.
Unspeakable monstrosities crossed over and began devouring every living thing.
And then a fiend of unspeakable size and malevolence looked at me and smiled as he crossed into my world.
I could see myself, a tattered broken man suddenly imbued with an insatiable power.
I felt a sudden drive to destroy all that I knew, and return it all to how it used to be before light and life.
I saw myself become the hand of Exmortis.
I was what was, what is and what will be.
And something else in the shadows.
But then the darkness took me as I fell to my knees and the pathway crumbled - my soul lost forever.
I don't dare to dream again for fear of what other horrors await.