A bloated moon hung over the bone dust of the White Kingdom. The Ghoul King sat on his throne. The sound of the tormented dead sang their song to him, but it was not because of this that he felt pleasure in his black dead heart.
Doresain gazed into the orb in his hand, marveling at the tiny shard that burned within it. Such power he held. Such a force destined to change the very face of the multi-verse.
“Our shipments are on schedule,” whispered a voice behind him. A woman, gray-skinned and cloaked in black, stepped forward. “They should all be here within eight moonrises.”
“Excellent, my dear.” said Doresain. “All is in hand.”
Doresain placed the black orb on a pedestal of bone with a clawed hand holding the orb in place. It sat among four others, one green, one blue, one red, and one yellow. Each pulsed with an internal glow.
“The reawakening will begin soon.”