Angel Of The End Times's History
In the cold, obsidian shadows of Arkham, a vision unfolded that defied the very essence of humanity's feeble understanding. None amongst the town's populace had seen or even heard of such an eldritch apparition, one that seemed to have manifested from the forgotten annals of forbidden scripture.
The being was comprised of two enormous, cyclopean rings, each shimmering with an unnatural scarlet hue that seemed to emanate a pulsating malevolence. These interlocking circles, one ensnared within the other, floated with an eerie levitation, untouched by the ground beneath. Their very presence seemed to warp the fabric of reality, drawing one into the vast abyss of cosmic horrors beyond comprehension.
But what most unsettled the denizens of Arkham was the myriad of unblinking eyes that adorned these rings, each eye a sentinel to some arcane secret. They ranged from the size of a pinprick to that of a dinner plate, and each seemed to gaze into one's very soul, revealing secrets that man was not meant to know.
Rumors began to circulate that this was not just any celestial being, but an archaic angel of yore, a harbinger of the end times, or perhaps a sentinel of some ancient cosmic deity. Its very presence in Arkham was a testament to the thinning barriers between our world and the realms of incomprehensible horrors.
Those who dared to approach or even speak of the creature were met with madness or an inexplicable compulsion to worship it. The town soon descended into chaos, with cults forming in its name and scholars desperately scouring ancient texts for a hint of its origin or purpose.
As the days turned to nights and the nights back into days, the angelic entity remained, a constant, looming presence over Arkham. But as swiftly and mysteriously as it appeared, it vanished, leaving behind a town forever scarred by its otherworldly presence and a haunting reminder that there are things in this universe that mankind will never truly understand.
First sighting.
In the earliest days of Arkham, when the town was but a fledgling settlement, a tale emerged that would become the stuff of legend. It was during the late autumn, when the leaves turned amber and the fog began to roll in thick, blanketing the town in an eerie silence.
Elias Pritchard, the town's blacksmith and a man known for his sobriety and pragmatism, was the first to witness the being. He was returning home from his forge, the embers from the furnace still glowing in the dim light. As he approached the crossroads near the old church, his lantern revealed an astonishing sight.
Floating above the church's steeple were the two crimson rings, their otherworldly glow piercing the foggy night. The eyes upon them stared in all directions, unblinking and vigilant. Elias froze in his tracks, his lantern's light flickering as he tried to comprehend the vision before him.
He later described the sensation as a "weight upon his soul," a profound unease that seemed to grip him from the inside. The eyes, he said, felt like they were scrutinizing him, peeling away the layers of his being.
Elias ran to the town square, ringing the church bell in alarm. As townsfolk gathered, the entity remained stationary, its gaze fixed on the crowd below. The murmurs grew louder as fear and awe gripped the hearts of Arkham's residents.
By morning, the entity had vanished, leaving behind a town abuzz with whispers and speculation. While many dismissed Elias's account as a hallucination or the result of overwork, there were others who believed. They spoke of ancient prophecies, of celestial beings who would emerge in times of great change.
The tale of Elias's encounter became a cornerstone of Arkham's folklore, passed down through generations. And while many regarded it as mere myth, the sudden reappearance of the entity years later confirmed the darkest suspicions of the town's elders: that Arkham was, indeed, a place of great cosmic significance.
