In the end, when time fades, when history comes to a halt, where after nothing of meaning remains, there is the time of the last vestige. One walled citadel of humanity left in the lands swallowed by darkness, in which everyone day and night manned the defences. The subhuman hordes could not take it, but lay siege in a great hate and lust against the high fairness. There was no hope, for they were outnumbered beyond measure, and the subhumans multiplied as the resources in the city dwindled.
How the lands had been before they were overtaken. How fair the cities, the planes of freedom and law, the names and history of lands, the greater good and peace, wherein the fragile and fair could grow. All is overrun, plundered, raped, sacked, swallowed by the consuming chaos. Though all earth they have eaten, the last bastion is not taken yet. Only at such time, when all that is material is no more, does the spirit of humanity see itself, in the time left before the things crush the last remnants of what was before and snuff out the last light in the world.
The last bastion of humanity. The inner law, that through ages slowly arose, the instinct that tells us what is right, makes us love good and hate evil, and this bastion the enemies of humanity are too far removed from to be able to destroy. All the little things... forever broken. The tears of our ancestors that have been before. Do not forget us. Forget not one day of inequity, not one night of fear, not one act of rape, but keep it. Keep it in a black book in your mind.
The beings at the end look onto the beings of before, through time, and their eyes send forth thunderbolts of anger at the betrayal. You did this. You let the subhumans into our gates, into our lands, let them multiply and take over, attacked any one among you who dared utter a world against the sinking into animalistic barbarism of the great civilizations. You, we curse you, to live through what we live through, to know the evil fruit of your deeds upon your own being.
Let those who embrace the subhumans, as the shortsighted adopt a cub wolf, only to be torn to pieces by the animal when it matures, let these be delivered onto the subhuman masses without inner law. Let the fruits of choices be forced onto those who choose them.
All is forsaken. But hope, that the guardians at the end keep. That little thing the weak hold when all else is lost. All will fall, and the spirits of the weak shall be left to roam and give witness in a world from which they have made a hell. Those who serve what is greater good, they rise to the heavens to live with the gods. Those who are weak may fall down, because they gave in to weakness, and of corrupt barbarism be playthings.
And as the spirits at the end of things look opon the past, they see themselves. For it was they who turned away the ragged remnants of other civilizations, who had come in refuge from the torment of the hordes of subhumanity.
Remember the messenger that was sent away. And then they were swallowed up into the darkness, and then the beast came towards our realm, and we sent message asking for help to others, hoping that they might choose differently than we had.
Remember when the refugee messengers had come to the bright city, and were received in silence, and strode in the shame of their raggedness and exile. And the words that could not convey the immensity of what was coming:
'Let my name be forgotten and my being cast into nothingness if I speak any untruthfulness. I stand before thee, but cannot give you the message I have been sent with. It is with tear in my eye that I realise I cannot bring to you in word the things that I must warn you about. And I would not, for it is darkness. To make you see as I see that it is evil, you must undergo what we have undergone, but that is great torment, and you would not undergo it freely.
You see, to lighten your spirit I must darken your soul, and how could I do that? Know only this then: there is torment, there is slavery, and pain without cause, and it will come upon you too, if not stopped. This danger lies many lands away. It is coming this way, advancing like night, unstoppable. The ones in its way can only halt it for a while. Most do not realise that they must stand together, until it is far too late. The lands that are safe care little for the ones in peril, and so one by one all are swallowed.
And I? I've come to gather storms.'
