Quoted By:
=First Trumpet=
-Miles above the city of Serenade semi-obscured by an expanding shroud of smoke, the mesmeric dance of the Spotlight comes to an abrupt halt-
-Along the cursive linework of the spirographic shape which the Spotlight had settled upon tiny sanguine beads seep and drip from the ether, only to be greedily imbibed by the creased star-smeared Curtains-
-Spreading readily across the provided medium like a drop of ink on wet cloth, the dripfeed of pigmentation asserted itself in eruptions of branching crimson veins across the Curtains leaving the smudged depictions of cosmic enormity slightly red-shifted-
- As this occurs, the inert starscape scenery begins to erratically shudder across the Curtain’s face, travelling at a glacial pace with an flickering inconsistency that suggests a video bereft of half of its frames-
-The indistinct stars transforms into something akin to atmosphere-burnt meteorites, all loosely revolving around at single point: the Spotlight, a unhinged carousel of stolen starlight -
- Heralded by the tortured sound of a titanic clockwork thundercrack, the Spotlight resumes its endless spasm of arcane reconfigurations with redoubled haste -
-Amidst the radiance pouring upon Serenade miniscule hypotrapoids drift towards the city below, they are structurally static and wherever their shimmering forms pass the light shed from the Spotlight is briefly stained slaughterhouse red-
-Upon touching the ground the morbid snowflakes shatter disgorging a fizzle of energy which blossom into dragging fields of roiling temporal blisters, a small, short-lived bank of distorted space that exists grossly -and lethally - out of pace with the rest of reality-
