EVENT #24: RESOLUTION - IC LOG

[abraxasmods]

Event #24 - Resolution

OOC Event Log

News of the increasing tremors across Abraxas soon reached the minor territories. Though Nocwich, the Feywilds, and the Nether are more insulated from the effects of the Singularity, they'll feel it, too: intermittent quakes that knock books off of shelves, cracked foundations in old buildings, and large tidal waves that swallow ships and boats into the ocean, destroying coastal buildings.

By APRIL 16, it's clear that something worse is coming. The air in the crater hums with electricity, the ground shaking. For weeks, quakes have spread throughout the region, all emanating from the ancient relic. As dawn breaks on APRIL 18, the sun rises behind the solid stone structure, a shadow of a shadow stretching long across the desert.

As the territories struggle to maintain order, the very fabric of reality itself begins to shatter.

If you have any questions about specifics for this event, please don't hesitate to ask. Because the world of Abraxas is so large, and because so many of you have had your unique plotlines, we are not able to provide every possible detail all in one post - but that doesn't mean we don't have those details to share!

Part 1: Convergence

Within minutes, Abraxas watches the world peel away like old paint. A vendor in Aquilla falls through a shard beneath their feet that reflects the deep ocean of Earth; a Royal Guard in Thorne is swept up into the vacuum of space. What doesn't fall into the shards falls through them, dropping landmarks, creatures, and familiar faces onto a quickly unraveling Abraxas.

Between the fragments of Abraxas's reality, a dark fleshy substance presses through. A raw, meaty film stretches across a myriad of undulating limbs, wet with a thick milky goo. It pulses with the beat of a racing heart, eager to break free but unable to squeeze through. Where it can manage, bone-like tendrils sprout up and wide in any direction, appearing like blackened trees after a devastating fire. Through them, the pulse of life can be felt and seen as the "bark" shakes with each heartbeat.

Veins slither forward from the pieces of reality and encase the Singularity. One by one, multiple shards, large and growing - the source of all things - appear around the Singularity. Through them peer the reflections of another world, turned upside-down but most certainly recognizable to those once torn from their homes: a glimpse of a great modern city, the interior of a spaceship, the stretches of an ancient dark road.

While smaller shards can appear and disappear across Abraxas, catching unaware Abraxans in their wake, the primary "canon world" shards are only in the crater. These are the ones that must be closed, which only the Summoned can reach.

Return

Across these shards, the Singularity's tendrils stretch beyond imagination. No mages are required this time to break down these barriers. Instead, the shards themselves can be seen from the other side, too, frightening passersby as they glimpse another realm amid destruction.

Regular people cannot survive going through the shard. If anyone is curious enough to try and enter Abraxas, they will disintegrate immediately. But the previously Summoned are different. They can willingly enter if they choose. And, in cases where they don't, the Singularity's instability might force them through regardless, opening a shard up at their feet and dropping them back into a world they thought they had left.

Returning Summoned will only remember they were once in Abraxas after the shards breach their canon world. Once the veil has dropped, the memories will come flooding back - and they will realize that the place they temporarily called home, however long or brief, is now in trouble...along with those they left behind.

Because each Summoned is unique, please don't hesitate to ask us about your character's return if you're unsure how it might work for them!

Converging Realities

The reflections of another world are not the only thing breaching the fabric of reality. You realize, with dawning horror, that the pieces of a previous reality entirely shaped by your mind - the Horizon - are pushing through into the physical world...and some of them belong to you. A friendly sheep you created as a friend might bound out of the crater toward you. A monster you trapped in your psychic basement tears through a small village. Pools of lava from your special corner in the Horizon set fire to a flowering shrine.

But that isn't all. Some of you who have been here longest might recognize the portion of an enormous stone labyrinth that emerges through cracked shards the desert. As the light hits them, the walls of the maze shift between gritty granite and glass, flashing iridescent colors. Should anyone approach the reflection, they will find themselves at the entrance of the maze or lost somewhere within it.

Others of you will recall the same sickly-sweet smelling goo that shrouds a tower of oddly stacked containers. Bits of the substance leak out of the shards, staining the sand they land on.

Long ago, you might've suspected that these were the domains of the Gods. Now it's clear that that's exactly what they are: sections of the Horizon, just like yours, belonging to those who carry the potential to ascend.

Across Abraxas

All across Abraxas, particularly throughout the major territories, chaos reigns. Officials struggle to retain control of their population, no longer able to effectively direct their citizens as panic sets in and destruction is wrought over the land.

Kingdom of Thorne

In desperation, the forces of Thorne are attempting to siphon off magical energy in hopes of at least slowing the encroaching threat. While the artifacts and spells they have on hand were not designed for this particular purpose, they are making do.

The real push comes not from Thorne's castle but from Nott. The current High Mage, Mace Hemmet, is inexperienced in the face of such an unprecedented crisis. As a result, Ambrose Rhett steps back onto the stage, once again. He knows more about the Singularity than any mage. It's time for the former High Mage to come out of hiding.

Lord Veda fully supports Ambrose, lending the strength of Nott's forces behind him and offering whatever is needed. Even shelter and supplies for castle mages sent to battle the rifts and a promise to work hand in hand with the castle's forces. Meanwhile, King Rudolph Sidwell - himself more of a soldier than a scholar - returns to Borrel to be with his men. Against his advisor's counsel, he travels out to sea in one of Thorne's warships to rescue sailors trapped under the roiling and shaking ocean at great risk to himself. Queen Lia is thus in charge, and she sees the value in inviting both Ambrose and Lyle Veda back to Castle Thorne.

The Free Cities

Already mistrustful of magic, citizens in the Free Cities are gripped by a multiplying fear. Some believe Thorne is responsible for what's happening, while others grow angry that the end has now arrived due to Marlo's inaction against the Singularity as promised.

Prime Minister Marlo Reiner is in a frenzy. The only thing keeping her from utilizing every resource at the Free Cities' disposal - tested or not - is the calmer head of Quilleth Kaur. It's no secret among the upper authorities of the desert region that the two are closer than simply friends or fellow politicians, and Quilleth remains close by Marlo's side in Portam Hall to present a united front.

Curfew is reinstated. Massive generators are carted to stations along the outsides of the walls to defend them against unknown threats from beyond this reality. The cacophony permeates the desert - a loud grinding of mechanisms and the crackle of New Magic that drowns out everything else. Soldiers patrol at all hours, a rotation of everybody available and able. Outposts and mining operations are treated the same, ringed, and defended as best as possible. Trade and travel between the cities halts.

All the while, the Free Cities' population becomes increasingly restless. They expected to be better protected by their advanced technology and armies - and it's clear that their government and soldiers have let them down.

Solvunn

The normally placid Commune is more divided than ever. Having fostered a deep devotion to the Gods for centuries, extremists and fanatics sing the praises of the end times. Some take to proselytizing the centers of towns and villages or along roads about how the end of this world will bring them together with the gods. Fervent prayer is common no matter the level of faith, and the oldest shrines see an increase in pilgrimages. Some people scatter themselves in earnest, while others hide away in their homes.

As reality crumbles, the most fervent believers begin to throw their most prized possessions into the reflections to be one with the Gods, whether it be material goods or loved ones. Fights break out between families and neighbors, clashing over true devotees and fear for the safety of others. The Elders try to mitigate, torn between their duties to the Gods and their fellow man.

Isar Hart is rumored to be a true believer, but he stands beside his friend and current Head of Council Rowan March. They call for all Solvunnites to return to the Primary Settlement to "take this hallowing moment in reverence. Meanwhile, without a direct call to action on the Gods' behalf, Edda Hagen, despite her recent appointment, is scarce - though some report seeing her on the roads late at night.

The Commune is in chaos.

Part 2: Doorways

As reality splinters further, it becomes clear that the answer lies in the epicenter of the Singularity's crater. Unlike previous crises, there are no officials or territory leaders that will guide the Summoned or make requests of them. Instead, it's up to you to figure out what to do. Logic dictates that one should approach the Singularity to determine the next steps.

A certain God will chime in - and he might be worth listening to.

Due to the thinning veil between the mortal realm and the domain of the Gods, the Summoned can now communicate with the Gods through the Network. Using the information they learned from the minor territories last month, plus the knowledge they've gained regarding Abraxan magic throughout their time here, characters can come up with a solution.

We'll outline the solution for players to know OOC, but this does not mean characters can't have doubts or concerns. However, for the sake of moving the endgame plot to its conclusion, the majority of characters should believe it's their best chance to prevent further destruction despite the risks.

RESPOND TO THE GODS HERE.

Coming to Terms

As you work together to gather what you know, it becomes clear that the only way to stop the Singularity from overwhelming not only Abraxas but all worlds, is to permanently seal the shattered rifts - which, according to what you know, will require at least some of you to remain on the other side of the rifts while others stay behind.

The spell must be performed during the lunar eclipse taking place tomorrow night. Everyone will have a brief 30-minute window to perform and complete the spell using various runes learned from the Gods, the Fey, and Solvunn. You're told that you may need to channel an immense amount of energy, so much so that the process could leave irreparable, lasting effects upon you and your soul.

You cannot receive assurance of the outcome. While all sources indicate that this method grants you and the universe the highest chance of survival, it's unclear what the impact will be on you and your friends. You'll have to take that risk if you want any hope of seeing the next sunrise.

A few Gods may fill in the gaps for rifts that do not have a Summoned willing to go to that canon world. For some of you, it would be possible to stay in Abraxas while one of the Gods takes your place. Remember, too, that the person stepping into a canon world does not need to originate from that world. The process only needs someone on the other side.

Defining Fate

You and the Summoned gather into the crater, now expanded many miles in all directions. It's evident that the crater is safest: here, the quakes do not affect you, and though the rifts continue to fracture and shatter, the creatures emerging do not seem interested in attacking anyone within the crater - only outside of it.

Having learned you must wait for the arrival of the lunar eclipse, there is little else to do except spend time together. Perhaps it's a blessing in disguise. You have time to make your decision. You can say your goodbyes. After all, even if this works as intended, some of you may not be with each other tomorrow. And, if it doesn't go as planned...you'll want to get anything off your chest you haven't yet shared.

Things will be relatively quiet at the Singularity's crater to allow characters to have any final moments they wish to have together. They may use the Network to communicate or speak to each other in person! Once the lunar eclipse arrives and they proceed with the plan, there will be no turning back and no time for long discussions.

When the lunar eclipse arrives, you must act quickly, each of you locating the correct rift. You'll have had time to identify each rift the night before, so navigating there should be easy, to a degree. As the eclipse takes over the sky, you begin to experience a powerful rush of energy from the Singularity that makes it difficult to breathe and blurs your vision. While you can fight through this, it'll take all of your strength - and relying on your gifts from the Singularity will help.

◎ The spell itself is simple: you copy the runes from the research you've done, drawing them around the rift itself. How you do so depends on the power you possess. You can paint it, etch it with a weapon, use a magical design in the air, mark it using a floral pattern, or so forth. You're drawn naturally to the method that feels most intuitive to you and the power you wield.

◎ Once drawn, you must reach into yourself and channel the power that connects you to the Singularity. Physically, you may experience the following symptoms: a splitting headache; feeling as though you're torn in half or your soul is rendered; an overwhelming rush of emotions; or all of the above. You might feel you can sense the very universe crying out.

◎ The longer you persist, the less certain you are that you will survive the process unscathed. You can try to stop, of course...but at a certain point, you'll be too late and the power continues to flow from you regardless.

Closure

Flashes of light pulse with the closure of each shard. You hear the crackle of glass as the rifts are crushed and reformed. The ground shifts and shakes in every territory, the night air vibrating with chaotic power. This could be everything...or it could be the end. For a terrifying moment, you don't know which.

Your body is suspended in an abyss, a reminder of your entrance to Abraxas. You feel once more a light and the oppressive water around you. As the world stitches back together, the veins on the scorched trees shrivel and crumble to dust. The trees turn to ash.

The eclipse passes. The night is calm. Most significantly, the relic that cast its shadow over Abraxas for thousands of years has vanished. The crater is empty. There is no more Singularity. Yet, Abraxas still stands.

As for you - that's another matter. In your quest to restore the universe, what has become of you?

Comments

💫 yennefer

[diametrically]

[ Cassian is no stranger to nightmares; even in sleep his mind refuses to let him rest. Why would it let him soundly sleep when things have been going all too well for him? That would be uncharacteristic in the trajectory of his life thus far. Living has never fit into that equation. Not really. Not when he has been running, surviving and fighting for the majority of it. Peace has never been an option for him.

So it stands to reason that when he accidentally stumbled into a way of life that almost feels like a sense of normalcy he has never allowed himself to dream of, his mind refuses to allow him to a moment's respite. A part of him had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. The rest of his life couldn't just be domestic comforts of a cottage he lived in with River and sometimes Yennefer who came and went but was always welcome as he tended to a garden and mended the hem of River's dresses.

It is fitting in some way that Abraxas is cracking and coming apart at its seams. The fissures being torn in its landscape look like how Cassian's mind feels. A holomovie filled with moments of a life that looks a lot like his stream through his mind in disjointed, fragmented ways. Kenari, Ferrix, Aldhani, Narkina 5, Coruscant, countless planets he swears he's never been to but knows so well and finally - Scarif. It's at that moment that he wakes drenched in sweat and gasping for air. His body is driven to survival mode, lungs desperate to breathe air that doesn't feel like it's burning him from the inside out, hands grasping for a body (Jyn. Jyn - where is Jyn?) that is not there. But amidst the panic a part of him inherently knows that what he had experienced was not a dream. It is reality. The Death Star plans had ben sent up to the Rebel Alliance. There had been a bright light and so much blistering heat as he held on tightly to Jyn as the base on Scarif went up in flames. Rogue One was no more. Jyn, brilliant, fierce Jyn who had fought and made her father proud - was no more.

And he is dust.

A ragged gasp breaks the silence of the night and he remembers where he is. There's another warm body there - not Jyn, but just as important, just as cared for - pressed up against him and that's when he turns, shifting in the tangled sheets to reach for the small of Yennefer's waist to pull her close. His heart hammers loudly in his chest and he presses his lips to her forehead in silent apology. There's no doubt in his mind she'll be able to tell what's wrong in an instant. But he can't bring himself to speak aloud everything that he now knows to be true. Not yet. For now he just wants to hold onto something normal. Something quiet and peaceful, maybe even deserved, because he knows in his bones that that will soon come to an end. ]

[vixening]

[ nothing in yennefer's life has ever truly been settled - it comes with the extended life, with the understanding that for as many decades as she has lived, she will live decades more. years and years of one life will, in the grand scheme, be as meaningless or as meaningful as she wishes, but time will not have a hand in deciding which. she had once spent decades at the hand of a monarch who only cared for her beauty, another few in a school that taught her so much and yet so little of the world itself. she's spent years at the beck and call of thorne's queen, and much less in the rickety home in nott, and yet which does she put more credence in? which does she think to, when she considers her life? her time?

they have barely spent months hidden away in the feywilds, untamed woods and creates and the fae who have hidden themselves away here for longer even still. and yet what she knows is temporary, what will always be temporary, has started to feel more like routine than anything else. she travels, she spends her time with her people, she checks in on those she worries for and makes certain of the safety of her others even when she knows they can take care of themselves, and then, when she is able, and even when she might not need to, she escapes to this small hut in the woods - this place, a quiet garden, a small home, something that at time reminds her of another life and yet so fully of this one.

as time passes, abraxas slowly starts to shake - tremors that shake the very land they live on - but they are looking into it. she and istredd, she and the others- there is nothing that will happen to this place that they can't stop, and until they have answers, that is all they can do. it keeps yennefer busy, it keeps her moving, and maybe it increases the amount of time she spends here, in a place where she has found to actually bring her some measure of peace, some measure of quiet, of warmth. this bed has always been cassian's, a room and a space that he has tucked away for himself with river in the next room over, but yennefer finds there is plenty of space for herself there, too.

it is no extravagant manor, no high estate room in the castle, or even her bed, tucked away in that rickety building in nott, that she had made comfortable, made her own. but it is real, and it is warm, and each time she tucks herself under those blankets, it is to cassian's arms. into the understanding, the comfort, of realizing that is all she really needs.

yennefer has found that at times, she sleeps better here than she does most other places - letting her body sink into worn fabric, the weight at her side. it is only because she sleeps this well that it takes her a few more moments to feel the movement, a few more to realize that it is cassian - movements a bit jerky, his breathing harried. she'd been pressed up against his back, which means that she feels him as he turns to face her, feels him pull her closer - something she tucks into easily, shifting to fill the space. to let her hands wander, sleepily, to his chest. ]

Cass? [ yennefer blinks, exhausted, but she feels something off. feels a kind of shift in air around them, a movement, a kind of unsettling. as the sleep falls from her, she's able to pinpoint it a bit more - the panic in him, the chaos. her hand goes flat to his chest, feeling his heartrate, feeling his fear, and of course her mind goes to nightmares, but it feels...different.

feels familiar. her eyes fall to his face, her hair a mess of curls and strands and everything all still in her face, but it doesn't matter as she looks for his pupils, his eyes. her hands rise to his cheeks as she finds her own center, finds her own chaos, and tries to reach out to his own - to settle whatever it is that has him so rattled. ]

What happened?

[diametrically]

[ Having Yen in his arms and pressed tightly against his chest is usually enough to chase away his demons. But this time is different. Even though he wills his soul and his heart to settle, even though he can feel the shape of her magic press against him, his mind rages and his heart continues to feel like it wants to break free from the confines of his chest. It feels like the worst bout of motion sickness he's ever had coupled with the fading but terrible sensation of his body screaming despite there being no searing heat burning his flesh from his bones.

Every nerve in his body feels like he's been made some kind of livewire. It's uncomfortably familiar, a nod to a time when he had been a self-sacrificing, foolish god. Except this time the galaxy and stars that he had been made of have been stuffed back into a mortal body of flesh and bone and there will be no coming back from what he's done. ]

I had a nightmare.

[ As if he can feel her gaze searching for his, he foolishly shuts his eyes tight as the words tumble from his mouth, unable to stop the habit of lying and pretending that he is fine and that he has some iota of control. Perhaps it is his death that has him realizing with startling clarity that he's had so very little control over his life. Fate, destiny, or whatever had been written in the stars had always propelled him along, made him feel like there was no such thing as control no matter how hard he tried to grasp it. Living with his head in the sand had not been an option. Not after the curtain had been torn back. So what other choice did he have but to rage against it? And if he could not gain control then he would fight for it, burn for something that he now knows he will never see but hopes will come to fruition in his galaxy some day, somehow. Everything shown to him, everything he did, had not been in vain. He would do it again over and over if he had to even if it ended just like this.

But what his conviction believes - knows - is right, can't reconcile with everything else that floods his mind. How can he even begin to think about how he's supposed to tell River? Percy and Annabeth? Istredd? Yennefer? A vice squeezes tight around his heart, not for himself but for those that he's built a semblance of a life with that he holds dear. And how much time does he have left before whatever magic holding him together at the seams deems that he returns to the stardust that flows in his veins? Those in his life are no strangers to loss but he had learned, after a dream lived as a god and now this, that he didn't want them to mourn him or cause them any undue pain.

His voice is low and gravely in an attempt to hold onto this for just a moment longer as he presses another kiss to her temple. ]

It's nothing. Go back to bed. Please.

[vixening]

[ he doesn't calm, and as the moments pass, yennefer feels herself become more and more attuned to it. she is awake now, fully, and her focus falls on him. at first it is barely a brush, a test to see what it is she can sense right off the top, a skim from the lip, and what she gets is fire, heat, fear, acceptance. it comes in a rush, a kind of overflow of his immediate emotions without any specific thought or image attached, but it does cause her an intake of breath, a firming of her hands where they are still cupping his face.

it does feel oddly familiar, in a way that isn't quite a dream, but isn't reality, either. the illusion of their past lives, of their imaginary godhood, a connection that she and cassian had never fully let go of.

her eyes open onto his, just in time to see his fall closed. I had a nightmare slips out of him like she'd pulled it, like it had been desperately bursting forth. with his eyes closed, he can't see the way her lips turn down, her frown concerned, worried, but not altogether surprised. some part of her, no matter how buried and old it might be, knows this unmooring. knows how it feels to try and center yourself after a dream that shakes you to your core. nightmares are one thing, sometimes hauntings, sometimes prophesies, sometimes nothing but their anxieties turned images. but what she feels tearing at the seams of cassian is not that, not any of that, and she considers what it is she can do about it.

cassian pushes forward, pushes down what he can and tries to steady his breath, but she can read it in him even now. in the electric shock that still fills his veins, in the tension he can't quite rid himself of. he kisses her temple again, always trying to comfort, always trying to be the ease, and it solidifies yennefer's resolve. go back to bed he says. please.

she opens her eyes to him then, whether or not he is looking back, and shifts some of his sleep-ridden locks from his forehead. ]

Cassian. [ there isn't room to argue, in her tone, but it isn't harsh, either. she lets her eyes roam over his features, familiar lines, faded scars. she could easily just dip into what roils away inside his head, could easily press her magic into seams of him until she knows.

she won't, but the old teachings are there - how to distract, how to make the ancient words sound like whispers against the skin, how to slip in and out unnoticed with everything she could have ever wanted and more.

right now, all she wants is to ease whatever is causing this. and while she has her theories, her ideas, she can't massage what she doesn't know. ]

Let me help.

[diametrically]

[ Relying on others for help is something he's never shied away from, especially not if he knew if something he was setting out to do couldn't be accomplished on his own. That had been the whole point of that ragtag team of rebels setting out to do the impossible. That had been the whole point of everything he had done that had led him to this point. Everything that had been accomplished, everything that they had done had been a result of everyone working collectively towards something. Leaning on others is not a sign of weakness - but despair grips him all the same, threatening to pull him under: what help can anyone possibly provide him? It should be him helping them, not the other way around.

In his galaxy he is dead and he is gone and there is nothing that can be done. No magic to twist and weave himself back together. And while that might despair someone who had lived a brief, strange, moment as a god whose stubbornness would never let him fully disappear into the aether, Cassian realizes in his maelstrom of feelings, that he doesn't want that. But what will those closest to him try to do? Would they try to find a way to piece him back together again? He doesn't want their help. Not because he thinks himself capable of finding a solution to this strange, sobering situation but because he'd want them to continue living their lives without desperately trying to fix something that cannot be fixed.

It's Yennifer's voice, her strength, that cuts through the din. With his forehead still pressed to hers like she's a lifeline to this place he nods, eyes still shut tight as he tries to reach for the cool darkness instead of the bright, burning light that is seared into his mind. ]

Okay. [ He swallows, drawing in a ragged breath as his lungs struggle to take in air that his brain cannot comprehend breathing. ] Alright.

[ It is another moment however until he feels like he can speak. Telling her is uncomfortable but showing her what happened? That is unthinkable. But he can't help it. In this state his mind is weak, as if the explosion had burnt away all his defenses and walls leaving all of the memories filled with pain and grief, sorrow and love exposed like a raw nerve. ]

I saw...everything that happened in my life. It wasn't a dream. I lived it. I fought. I lost so much. I killed so many people all for the rebellion. And I - [ Even in his quickly growing acceptance of this truth his voice falters all the same. ] did what I set out to do.