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<span class="mu-i">"To wage war on the Dread Lords. To challenge their reign and interfere with their plans. To upset the natural order."</span> Your brother shakes his head, the left side of his face is entirely missing. His right eye stares through you, deathless and disappointed. <span class="mu-i">"Did you not pause to think of who would bear the cost? The countless souls that you would condemn?"</span>
<span class="mu-i">"No..."</span>
<span class="mu-i">"You sought to make your mark on the world, boy."</span> You turn at the voice of Father, to see him now hunched over the end of the table from his noble seat. His empty eyes are lances into your soul.
<span class="mu-i">"No..."</span> You cannot move, you cannot even cry out or protest your best of intentions. The other corpses around the table begin to stir. <span class="mu-i">"Father, please..."</span>
<span class="mu-i">"And in your arrogance..."</span> Father's voice is not alone, the chilling weight of ages and accussation of every restless soul denied their final peace lurks behind those empty eyes. <span class="mu-i"><span class="mu-s">"You Have Doomed Us All."</span></span>
You feel cold talons, ageless and far from anything remotely human, grip the back of your neck as the skeletal hands of your murdered family reach for you in a loveless embrace.
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