Template:PostIn Pan Post 10 Memnoch speaks with Runekeeper about the events on Earth, where the nexus has been all but destroyed by the Latter-Day Greys of Memnoch. Parting on uneasy terms, Memnoch briefly checks on The Abyss of Tartarus before taking the soul of King of the Greys and transforming him into the Twice-Forgotten GreyShade and tasking him to remove Earth's centrality from the NeS.
The Second Cataclysm of Magic
A foul plot by Memnoch - aided by cunning reality-warping magic-absorbing bombs developed by Discharding - has disrupted all magic on Earth, shattering the ley nexes and nearly destroying the planet itself.
Earth is the center of the cosmic weave, the pattern after which the fractal of the NeSiverse is formed. So when magic ruptures on Earth... so too does it across the cosmos.
Continents on far-flung planets heave and crack. Stars implode. Spacetime itself ripples. Magic-users and mystical devices everywhere lose power, or work differently, or not at all.
In his sanctum, the Runekeeper - cosmic god overseeing magic - shrieks in pain as he feels the magic exploding. Ley lines all across universe snap in twain, and each one feels like a bone breaking in his body.
Runekeeper: So... much... lost...
He grits his teeth, clenching his fists together as he summons to him all the magic he possibly can, attempting to stabilize it, to grant it a center around which to stabilize it.
It is little use, however, for the fractal nature of the NeSiverse means that the Earth's magical state determines the universe's, and the Runekeeper is not on Earth at the moment.
Runekeeper: Damn the Ancient One for kicking me off that planet. Then I wouldn't have had to conspire with Memnoch to destroy the very nexes that should have been mine!
Yes, the Runekeeper conspired to destroy the magical nexes of Earth, despite the pain it would cause him.
Memnoch: A shame you weren't able to create a new nexus under your control. Of course, you still have all time to keep trying, now that Earth's nexes are gone.
The Runekeeper spins around, but he is alone. Memnoch has only projected his voice into the magic deity's privacy. The Runekeeper grimaces at Memnoch's taunt, but he cannot resist the lure, and he hates himself for it. With a wish, he vanishes and reappears far across a multi-dimensional gulf to appear in Tartarus, the cosmic hell.
Runekeeper: Damn you.
Memnoch: Why, whatever have I done?
The archdevil overseeing all the hells of the NeSiverse smiles ominously, unperturbed. The Runekeeper is silent, refusing to rise to the bait. Memnoch waits patiently. Finally, the Runekeeper speaks.
Runekeeper: The nexus of magic on Earth has been all but obliterated.
Memnoch: How... unfortunate!
Runekeeper: And nobody knows where the... information regarding the nexes originated?
Memnoch: Not even Orkag... Orkagm... Ort... That Big Idiot.
Runekeeper: Careful how much you say aloud, Memnoch. Even in this realm of yours, there are ears for the Big O or other deities. If the Earth deities found out...
Memnoch: Then I'd destroy them all the sooner. You may leave.
Runekeeper: You're ordering me around now, Memnoch?
Memnoch stares at the Runekeeper for a long while before shrugging and walking away. Only then does the Runekeeper leave. Memnoch chuckles sinisterly to himself.
Memnoch: So many bickering deities, always determined to have the last word. So determined, they lose sight of what's really important.
Memnoch: I really should have that sound replaced with something more sinister...
Buttons cover the interior of the elevator, ranging from 1 all the way to 665. Memnoch presses 665, and the elevator whooshes down as classical elevator music begins playing.
Memnoch: Replacing this gods-awful music with a cacophony of the damned should also be higher on my priority list.
It takes more than one hundred years for the elevator to reach the 665th layer of Tartarus, despite it dropping at speeds nearing that of light. Fortunately, Memnoch has time to spare, and time flows differently in this hell, meaning he has lost no time in the outside NeSiverse.
Stepping out into the 665th layer, only darkness greets the archdevil. Torchs give little illumination, for the very ground is solid darkness. This layer - and the nearly two hundred layers above it - have been excavated from the subdimensional strata of the NeSiverse, but have yet to be populated.
Memnoch walks through the darkness for an interminable period, before coming to some spiral stairs that descend into the solid-darkness ground. Hellish light shines from below, and brightens as he descends.
The archdevil speaks in the Ancient Language(TM), a terrible speech whose words cause chaos and disorder for leagues around when spoken. There is no one but Memnoch around however, and the passphrase keeps the booby traps at bay. At the bottom of the steps is a great door. Memnoch passes through it, and more than two dozen doors after that, all layers of security requiring different means to open.
The final door opens onto the lip of a vast pit, as wide as an ocean. Noxious black smoke wafts up from the bottomless pit, and puffs of hellish flame occasionally drift up as well. Memnoch inhales with satisfaction.
Memnoch: Ah, the scent of torment and despair... still, a little sharp even for me.
This is the Abyss, home to Memnoch's most ancient and terrible prisoner. When Memnoch dug down through the subdimensional strata of the NeSiverse to create his domain, the 666th was the lowest he could go; there was no further 'down' to dig, insofar as directions exist in an other-dimensional meta-space.
But the Abyss was already here, waiting for him, and when Memnoch discerned what lay within it, fear gripped him for the first and only time in his eternal life... but also excitement, for the opportunity.
Memnoch: Time to imbue another servant...
He inhales black smoke, and his perfect red flesh cracks as he contains it, his eyes turning jet black and leaking the occasional fume. In this manner, the archdevil leaves the Abyss and goes back up to a higher layer of Tartarus, choosing the damned soul of a Grey at random.
King of the Greys: My lord! It is an honor to finally meet you in person! I have ever served--
Memnoch exhales the black smoke. His eyes and skin return to their normal state, but the smoke surrounds the Grey King and transforms him. The damned soul screams... yet no one, save Memnoch, hears him.
And when the transformation is complete, no one, save Memnoch, even remembers his ever existed.
Twice-Forgotten Greyshade: What would you have of me, my lord?
Memnoch smiles chillingly.
Memnoch: With its nexes destroyed, Earth is vulnerable. Leave it whole, or not, I do not care... but annul its centrality, annul its metaphysical significance as the pattern for the fractal of the NeSiverse...