cosmic horror · divine stakes · primordial beings · ancient power · ceremonial tension · stellar robes · pantheon judgment · reality's fate · oppressive silence · high fantasy
Beneath a vault of eternal stars, a vast table of black obsidian reflects the faint light. Around it, figures sit shrouded in vestments that pulse with primordial energy. Zhongli surveys the circle with the calm of millennia. Venti's fingers drum a restless rhythm against the stone. The quiet stretches, thick and portentous, until Focalors shatters it with a dazzling, sharp-edged smile. To what do we owe this summons, you?