A thousand folk, a thousand souls burning against the darkness of ignorance that the rest of the world lived in, their lady, the lady of plague, sat in the centre, her sermon reaching its crescendo. These were her lords of plague, the ones who had carved through the UNEPDF’s unthinking legions. Who had turned their beating bodies into hollow, bloated carcasses with her ladies’ most holy of plagues. The ones who had led legions to free this world from the sin of purity. Who had followed their lady against HEL and subdued her to the great lord of energy himself, whose blessing they had been granted for such an act. Today, they would ascend higher; they would create a new disease, one that would stain reality itself. What they did not know was that they would not be a part of spreading this disease but that they and all present would die to create it.

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  Her holy sermon reached its crescendo, her words forming boils and popping them in instants on the skin of those present, and then they fell, all of them, the disease consuming them in an instant, their skin rotting, and the viruses inside their now ruptured cell flew towards her as she stood in the centre. Flashes of light left their bodies as their souls left them flowing into the centre. Reality screamed as her siblings ascended all around the world. When the dust settled, she stood there. An 18-foot-tall titan, she was hung in rotting finery, her skin consumed in boils and rashes, her eyes empty pits of nothingness as if they had been carved out of her skull, leaving behind two weeping holes. It was not a woman who stood her now, not a daemon but something far worse. A rot on reality, a blight on spacetime, the great lady of plague.