Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28920015-20170417012440/@comment-26120744-20170418040718

Hazama, along with the one controlling him, would forever see It.

After seeing it once, you can't forget.

The image of a dozen eldritch realms, each alone with the power to destroy realities, the Far Realm, the Furthest Ring, the Outside, the many Voids of many universes.

And then the purple and black roots beneath each, sprouting from the red sphere at the bottom of the abyss, the sphere coated in an exoskeleton of geometrically impossible cages, filled with equally impossible creatures that would drive gods mad.

The Void, in it's totality, was like a Maelstrom in reverse. Rather than a whirlpool flowing inward, it was flowing ever outward, with dozens of more organized eldritch realms orbiting and swimming through the inky blackness of the formless, ever-changing wasteland.

And at the center, a Sphere, likened to a monotheistic and omnipresent god, a madness beyond all other kinds of madness, whispering in languages that none, not even the omniscient, could know. Yet.

That image lives with all who behold it for the rest of their days, a hallucination that gnaws upon sanity until there is nothing to gnaw.