Scoria.

A world ruled by warmongers and extremists. The ten supreme races' brittle harmony here were always locked in battle and not a single day went by without streams of blood being split. The lands had long been dyed red and nourished in death and decay. Not a single place was peaceful. Not even on clear nights such as this.

Tensions were tight beneath the starry night sky of this world. Outside a massive three story pavilion, guards stood menacingly at each vermilion pillar. 

Atop this tightly guarded pavilion, a man dressed in a blue kimono, a black undershirt, bound by a black sash, towered over a sandalwood desk with a sword at his hip. Soaring along the bottom hems of his kimono was an embroidered dragon. Its intense unwavering gaze, too life-like to be a mere design, seemed to have infected its master, as his master’s gaze locked onto the desk showing the same intensity.

Those ash like eyes ignored the hoard of jewels littering the surface. Instead they focused upon a blue gem throned upon a coral stand, in front of which was a lock of black hair lightly singed, bound in a white ribbon resting beneath it.

Suddenly there was a pop. The man’s brows flinched at this sound. A crack spreads down the center of the blue gem, nearly splitting it in two equal parts.

The man’s sight trembles while he watches. Mist swirls in his eyes as he closes them with extreme difficulty.

“So...she’s gone.” He released a trembling breath. His slumped shoulders began shaking. His hand reached out for his heart, for the missing piece that had been brutally torn away, hoping for its return but knowing it was gone forever.

“She’ll be missed.”

Appearing from the shadows, a man cloaked in black bows his head. He dared not to look up at his master who was moving away from the desk. That steady form became hunched and had trouble walking away. His master, who was usually so confident, looked stiff and withdrawn, even more so than usual.

The man walks towards a circular window. He ran his fingers along the opened square lattice shutters. Profound heartache was swimming in his gaze while it slowly traced the delicately carved wood. Once those eyes reached the final curve, they stopped on the full moon.

“She’s… truly gone?” The air turns somber and heavy with his words. Tension became a thick substance expelling all oxygen from the air.

Without a single warning suddenly a spark ignites the air. The temperature rose to a boiling point. A rush of air violently shakes the room, threatening to collapse the building. 

The servant stumbles back. His eyes open wide, reflecting in his hazel eyes a cold arc sliced through the scalding air. The servant's enraged master had drawn his blade to demolish the desk filled with treasures. Unable or unwilling to hold back his strength, he destroyed more than just that simply crafted furniture. But the dust had yet to settle making further inquiries impossible. But to the ‘blind’ servant the pavilion seemingly split in two as he held tightly to a shelf, feeling the ground shift below his feet.

Through the falling dust, the man's left hand gripped tightly to his sword's hilt, a stone hidden in his right hand. Suddenly a breeze stirs the dust, lifts his kimono, teasing the embroidered dragon to dance in the wind. Backdropped by the full moon, the otherworldly sight stole hearts and reaped them all at once, leaving behind the lonesome man in a 'world' detached from the 'world', tears spilling down his face, dripping off his chin, and glimmering in the light.

“Are the preparations complete?” Dull but fierce light from his blade flickers across the man’s eyes. He stands straight, the moonlight illuminating his silhouette, flickering across his blade and his swaying hair.

“Yes my lord.” 

“Mmm.” The man in the blue kimono gives a sign of acknowledgement. Electricity churns like wind, then a bolt of lightning strikes, and the man vanishes.

The servant heaves a sigh, shivering as cold sweat trickled down his back. The dust had finally begun to settle. There in front of his eyes was a waxing crescent wound splitting the building in half. Beyond the damage a ledge that used to be a mountain was crumbling into a landslide. Trees down below sunk into a perfectly shaped canyon, spreading even more dust into the air.

The servant lowers his nose to his heart, right where his hand was bracing itself to find some semblance of calm. It had been quite some time, but once more he was ‘blessed’ with witnessing his lord’s mercurial mood, the one which never failed to frighten. Even though time had worn down his fear, the startling jolts and twisted churns of the stomach were still very much there to haunt him. He would never grow used to this.

“Without Madam, I’m afraid all the mountains will vanish and the lands wither into dust….…” When he peered once more outside the hole he mournfully shook his head. "Oh Madam…… Life is going to get more complicated from here on out, isn’t it?"

A great distance away from this pavilion the rippling effect of Mozen’s death had spread, for even more areas had gone through catastrophic damage. 

Far into the foggy marsh within the eastern region of the world. The poisonous valley had been set on fire. Beast ran a muck and people dawned in white and purple escaped with fire burning away at their clothes.

Beyond a village full of barbarian type men within the southern region of the world. Inside a ravine with waterfalls cascading down from each corner, an eruption occurred. Lava rose into the sky, turning the waterfalls into mist. This disaster sent out a wave of large men holding to their weapons, panicking to get away in time.

Up in the sky in the central region of the world where elegant white buildings float amongst the clouds. An explosion burst into the sky and the buildings fell apart at the seams. These structures came crashing down, falling into the ocean. A large encompassing tsunami spread out in all directions as consequence. 

Hidden away in a small world, inside a gloomy marsh, inside an even gloomier manor, a gem pops inside a little girl's hands. Tears trickle down her desolate face. Rage and heartache consome her. In a finger’s snap the manor explodes, setting fire to the trees and brush. This unexpected catastrophe threatening to destroy the small world brought out an army of soldiers to contain it, but unfortunately there was not much they could do. Only wait for the girl to calm herself or their master’s return.

This disturbance soon became even more widespread, even affecting the common folk of several worlds. Those confused and panicked folks were shutting down businesses, protecting their homes, and preparing for the worst. Although nothing directly had happened to them, the night had become a sleepless one. Later it was even nicknamed as ‘A Night of Illness.’ For on this night, for hundreds of miles, lands far and wide, no one could sleep, feeling ill throughout the night and far into the morning.