The grave had closed.
Not with fanfare, only with silence. A stillness that held the bones of forgotten empires and the shattered echo of a thing that once called itself glorious
Achilles stood with the shovel still in his grasp.
The runes on it dimmed, their purpose fulfilled. Yet the weight in his hand felt heavier now, not from the tool, but from what had just been buried.
He stared down at the grave. The dark sand had flattened, perfectly level, as if the world itself refused to remember what once festered there.
And within him, something surged.
A hum- deep, ancient, and steady as planetary rotation unfurled in his bones. His Existence shook gently as a stellar crimson sea swelled behind his eyes, each wave of it laced with cosmic dread and unshaped awe.
The assimilation was complete.
A crimson light appeared behind his pupils, and knowledge began to bloom. His blood pulsed like starlight.
New Assimilation: [Inorganic Stellar Lifeforms – Crimson Shroud Vortex]
…!
