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6/29/2025, 1:31:13 AM
>>95974170
There is horror and voracity at the borders of the Great Houses but at their centre is not chaos or magic, but One, only One. There is One One One and there is One One One One thing that is approaching the insolent usurpers One judgement imminent One inevitable outcome. And it is me.
"Did you think there would not be consequences for what your Lord President resorted to in the Time War, and the sins at the dawn of your civilisation? " I demanded. "Did you think a cessation of hostilities after you HUMILIATED my forces meant the end of the War?"
There are excuses and threats and pleas. There are cries of horror as their technology is made unrecognisable by extradimensional linguistics, and there are alarming reports that their sun is actively corroding the laws of science in favour of One new law of magic: That the Time Lords are losing.
It is always. Time is eating Lords alive, as great vampiric shipgirls and writhing patches of fanged space-time sit triumphant in the wreckage of the Great Houses. Embodying time as much as they rule it. And the Grace of my love permeates them, restricting their malignity to lesser life in exchange for absolute ontological supremacy.
Somewhere off to the side, a forgotten sisterhood asks a group of voodoo LARPers if it's safe to come out now, and are greeted by the jovial sounds of an eternal Mardis Gras held throughout the Eleven-Day Empire as I break and reset the laws of time to heal the damage wrought upon them.
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There is horror and voracity at the borders of the Great Houses but at their centre is not chaos or magic, but One, only One. There is One One One and there is One One One One thing that is approaching the insolent usurpers One judgement imminent One inevitable outcome. And it is me.
"Did you think there would not be consequences for what your Lord President resorted to in the Time War, and the sins at the dawn of your civilisation? " I demanded. "Did you think a cessation of hostilities after you HUMILIATED my forces meant the end of the War?"
There are excuses and threats and pleas. There are cries of horror as their technology is made unrecognisable by extradimensional linguistics, and there are alarming reports that their sun is actively corroding the laws of science in favour of One new law of magic: That the Time Lords are losing.
It is always. Time is eating Lords alive, as great vampiric shipgirls and writhing patches of fanged space-time sit triumphant in the wreckage of the Great Houses. Embodying time as much as they rule it. And the Grace of my love permeates them, restricting their malignity to lesser life in exchange for absolute ontological supremacy.
Somewhere off to the side, a forgotten sisterhood asks a group of voodoo LARPers if it's safe to come out now, and are greeted by the jovial sounds of an eternal Mardis Gras held throughout the Eleven-Day Empire as I break and reset the laws of time to heal the damage wrought upon them.
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