Nyxion

1

In the beginning there was silence, and when creation tore light from the void, that silence did not die but lingered, patient, endless, and waiting. From ages of war and betrayal, from every unburied grief and unanswered prayer, the silence fed until it took form, a shadow that remembered every ending and carried within it the weight of all despair. The ancients knew it by many names, some calling it the starless night, others the abyss beneath reality, but all feared the same truth that this thing was not born, nor could it die, for it was the other half of creation itself. Sealed once by trembling gods who bound it beneath the bones of the world, it did not weaken but endured, watching, gathering, until the age of rot and decline came to pass. Now, with the heavens fractured and mortal empires collapsing under their own corruption, the silence rises once more, shaping itself into the Devouring Abyss. It does not come to rage, nor to conquer, but to finish what was always certain, for where there is life there must be death, and where there is beginning there must, in time, be an end.