The End (event)
The Ritual is complete.
Crying doomsayers and mad prophets, ailing Magi and panicked spirits, all have tried to warn mankind of the coming doom. Of the evils that would consume us all. We did not take it seriously, or perhaps we simply failed. All of humanity has been punished, all of us found wanting. The world is over, like never before, and never it shall be after.
Above us our star flickers and dies. Thousands fall with it, struck down by the screams emanating from the heavens as the fading sun bleeds a hellish red across a now-hostile sky. Where once there were thousands of stars placed there by the loving hand of my god, there is now but a yawning void that grows to consume even when there seems nothing left to take but emptiness. In every shadow the ancient dead cry out in fear and pain, in the streets corpses in the thousands pile from those who have given themselves to despair. There is nothing left, if any divine once stood with us they too have now vanished into the dead heavens.
These are the end times.
The longest night begins, twilight for both gods and man.