"The divine calling of an Abyssal Ruler does not allow for defeat. Only death." Valacar's voice was a low, somber murmur. "If the strongest among them falls, their world is completely consumed by the Graying. And all of us within it are devoured by the Unhallowed. There is no escape, Orion. In a Graying world, the planar barriers are sealed. You can't run."
Silence descended, heavy and absolute. Orion and Valacar sat across from each other, goblets in hand, lost in their own thoughts.
After a long moment, Orion looked up, his gaze locking with Valacar's. "How long until the next Graying?"
The question was critical. Before it happened, Orion had to reach the sixth plane of the Abyss and secure the Abyssal Springhead. The Conquest Legion needed to carve out a foothold there, and time was now a finite resource.
"The exact time is uncertain, but the word is no more than a year. A rumor that supposedly comes from an Abyssal Ruler."
