Will of the Dice- Through the Shattered Gate
The moment you step through the shattered gate, warmth dies.
The world you knew — its colors, its breath, its time — all vanish like a memory you were never meant to keep.
Welcome... to the Nightveil.
This is the place where the gods go to die — or worse, to be forgotten.
The sky above you isn’t sky at all, but a great and endless wound of black, stitched by veins of flickering red light. Beneath your feet, the land is jagged and gray, as if shaped by sorrow more than stone. Forests of petrified bone groan in the windless dark. Mountains float, unanchored. Rivers run backwards, carrying not water, but secrets too heavy to hold.
Here, nothing remembers you. Not the air. Not the stars. Not even your name.
And yet, something watches.
Forgotten gods, stripped of power but not of will, stir beneath the earth and behind the veils. Their temples lie buried, their followers long dust… but still, they dream. And in those dreams, they whisper:
“You should not have come here.”
But it is too late now. The path back has vanished.
The Nightveil has taken hold — and you are not the first to walk among its shadows.
You are only the first in a long time… to walk with purpose.
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