[OOC: This thread begins in the last hours of the Glass Eclipse event before the collapse of the temporary link between Revaliir and the ancient realm, alternating between three different perspectives–Shiloh, Siris as he was under the influence of the Eclipse Temple, and Mithras.]

Beneath a blood-red sky, a black sun shed its light as the stench of blood rose from the land. How long had it been since then? How long had it been from the time where life, death, and the ever-moving wheels of fate had continued to turn? Memories turn to dust, and even the strongest of wills can be eroded–leaving behind nothing but base instinct. Night and day were inconsequential; each no different from the last. In this perpetual cycle of eternity there was only madness. Steeped in miasma and chaotic fog, the phantasm lashed out at the outsiders. A maelstrom of swirling emotion and rage, all calculations and reason were absent. Like all the denizens of this accursed realm, there was only one single thought, one single desire: Kill.

Floating high in the air, a streaking volley of scorching mana pelted the ground like hellish rain. It pierced through sources of cover, decimating and eroding what remained of the ramparts that had broken down over thousands of years. There were two scurrying along the ground trying to avoid the bolts. One was taller and had masculine form with golden hair streaming behind. The other was smaller, more agile. Like a rat it deftly dodged the strikes, just barely out of their reach. No matter how they tried, their attempts would all end in vain. Their essence would be devoured, bodies torn, spirits shattered to abate the craven hunger that drove them all. 

What should have been a simple hunt began to drag out, prey always escaping, slipping just out of one's fingers. The more they struggled, the more the impatience grew. The outsiders who had come into this place were limited. Such an opportunity may never reveal itself ever again. Eons, ages, countless cycles of moon and sun had turned and turned without a single change in sight until now. And he had managed to rise above the tempest and carnage, becoming more than a beast. While thousands of beasts devoured and destroyed each other, only a few had overcome the bloody tides to stand upon the husks of those who lost. With each bit of essence stripped their power grew, but it wasn't enough. Locked in a never-ending battle of life and death, there was only so much essence within this realm between all of them. With the opening of the gates came fresh sources of essence, pure and more vibrant than anything beneath the crimson moon…

 A hissing shriek escaped his lips as a searing edge tore across his arm. A flaming circular blade flew by, curving far behind him to return to the hand of its thrower. The golden-haired man sent it towards him again, but this time he could see it well within his sights. Such a simple assault wouldn't work the same way twice. Avoiding the infused chakram with ease, the return trajectory would be just as easy to follow. Seeing how the outsider was limited to the ground, lunging at him while his weapons were in flight would be no trouble at all. He would first strike down the stronger one. Once he had devoured his essence, he would do the same to the other. As the arc of the chakram was on its return, he rushed down, ready to tear into the outsider adorned in gold. As he fell upon the man, suddenly a sharp pain pierced his back before being pulled out. 

"Agh, I missed–just a little more and it would've hit the shoulder! Mithras, pin him down!" 

Initially her reason for entering was a rescue mission to get as many victims out as possible. However as more people were escorted out, Shiloh had yet to learn anything about this realm and the cause of its isolation from the rest of the world. In terms of information sources, the pickings were slim. Most of the records were decayed or completely destroyed due to the passing of time, and she hadn't found any references to this location in Revaliir. Bringing back artifacts wouldn't be much help either. That left only one option: bringing back a live sample herself. There were a lot of concerns she had regarding her plan–one, she wasn't sure if doing so would be a great idea. Creatures that had lived in this chaotic realm for so long might not be able to survive outside of it, not to mention posing a possible threat to the general public. And even if she successfully isolated a subject, there was no guarantee she could reestablish contact with this realm again afterwards. If she was going to bring back a specimen, she had to choose carefully.

That said, she was starting to doubt this would even work. Most of the creatures in this realm were too far gone or too fixated on murder to string together any honest sentences. Instead of trying to pick their brains, she'd rather put them out of their collective misery. Shiloh was considering giving up on the whole idea until she hit a very serious snag in her last rescue attempt. First, she ran into Mithras. After desperately trying to avoid detection, she was caught in plain sight as she was pushing a man through the portal back to Tyr. There was no escaping the wild man's eyes at this point, especially since she forgot to wear a mask. No amount of persistent denial would convince him otherwise. Then disaster struck.

So far Shiloh had been fortunate enough to avoid the stronger enemies in this realm…until now. Right away the two of them were pushed onto the defensive, as the wraith-like entity started throwing a large volume of spells from above. Even with her senses impaired by the overwhelming ambient mana in the air, she had a hunch that this thing was powerful. If something in this realm had managed to keep a relatively human form, then it definitely was somewhere higher up on the food chain. The magical energy it was giving off was significant enough to detect even through her persistent headache. The lion-headed lord was keen on fighting it, much to her horror. But soon even he had to pull back and restrategize. Fortunately they could still escape through the way back to Tyr, however she didn't want to risk being chased. As she was glancing between the exit and the flying spellcaster, an idea floated in her head. Something capable of casting magic was likely to possess the capacity for higher thought processes. If she wanted to grab a specimen for study, wouldn't this be the best she could get?

Right now there was only one enemy and two of them–as long as there weren't reinforcements, they had a chance. Striking up a temporary (albeit reluctant) alliance, Shiloh and Mithras began the long assault. Armed to the teeth with plenty of enchanted weapons, they'd take turns taking shots at it until they could wear it down enough for her to initiate a capture. All they had to do was to make sure they didn't get hit.

He had been looking for a good fight, and he finally found one. Mithras was about to challenge the elusive deity of storms when they were interrupted by a much greater threat. Although he had confidence in his strength, the sorcerer was cunning and kept well out of his reach. Manipulation of the earth to gain higher ground would leave him exposed to an attack, and a recent display of the arcane fiend's prowess showed how foolish the idea of building a spire was. His impromptu comrade in arms had the means to close that gap, but judging by her cautious nature she wouldn't try unless she had the assurance of a sure win. She proposed a potential course of action: he would attempt to bring the sorcerer down or at least keep them in place long enough for her to move into position. They had no means to measure its current strength, thus they would not waste their efforts to bind it just yet. 

Their first bout began, with suppressing fire from the caster. Volley after volley of spells rained down on them, damaging and breaking down their cover. When there was a moment's reprieve the primal lord threw his blazing chakrams with as much force as he could muster. They weren't difficult to avoid, yet one of them was able to leave a mark on the enemy. "Even if it has the high ground, it can't keep track of too many targets at a time." He recalled the deity explaining. Even if its senses were acute and its battle instinct sharp, one's focus could only be divided so far until vigilance began to decline. Her proposed tactic was to introduce as many distractions as possible unpredictably, inducing a sort of mental fatigue. Eventually it would be forced to shift its focus and prioritize the greatest threat while ignoring the lesser ones briefly. This would give her the opportunity to deal a decisive blow before making a retreat, creating another opening for him to take advantage of. It was not the most ambitious of maneuvers, but he could respect its meticulous precision. It was a different style of hunting–rather than give a grand pursuit, it instead built up anticipation before an ambush.

They pledged that when the time came to strike, no holds would be barred. They must not allow their prey any chance to escape. 

The deity voiced that her move had failed to gain the momentum she had intended, but the effect was now in play. With that momentary distraction, earth and stone rose beneath his feet, granting him the foothold which to spring off of. With flaming chakrams in hand, his crimson eyes flashed as he bared his fangs in a wide grin. The searing blows caught the sorcerer off guard, sending them hurtling into the earth. As he prepared to pin the fiend down, he saw movement below and sensed the flow of power surge. Its strength belied its delicate frame, and he withdrew his weapons before bracing himself by hardening his skin into stone. The retaliation was swift, and sent him crashing through a ruined rampart, fortunately unscathed. As it prepared to take to the skies again, he caught a glimpse of something flying into it with a loud explosion. Dust was thrown into the air as the explosions increased in frequency while the goddess darted to and fro between the walls and outcroppings. However that itself was not enough to keep it land-bound, and the vengeful specter soon rose into the air.   

There was no hiding from him; sooner or later they would be caught. Did they think they could run forever? But perhaps his time in this realm had dulled his prowess–up to this point he had only pursued singular targets after considerable observation. The opportunity of catching two birds with one hand was an overwhelming temptation that clouded the mind of an essence-starved phantasm. When one has been at the top for too long, they easily lose the caution that was necessary to rise to their place. He was no different. A sharp sting came from his back, causing him to whirl around just in time to catch a glimpse of the weaker one dash away behind crumbling walls. Although it hardly wounded him, it was the boldness to resist that inflamed his ire. And while he had been focused on destroying the woman's environmental protection, the other quarry charged up, searing sharpness making impact to momentarily send the vengeful being hurtling down.

So that was it–the two were working together. How foolish they were to think they had the upper hand! Without delay, a stream of arcane energy hit the one with golden hair, throwing the man off his foothold back to the ground. At this point this hunt had gone on long enough. He would end this game of cat and mouse here and now. Rising above the ruins, as the smoke was clearing he heard whirring before being hit by a series of small explosions. Once the dust settled he was unable to track their origin, however they merely posed a slight interruption to an inevitable end.

The sorcerer focused his power, condensing several nodes of arcane energy across the blood-red skies. A myriad of shimmering points of light manifested on the horizon, each the precursor to a soon to be endless onslaught. There would be no refuge that could shield them once it was complete. The farce would end now. 

The golden-haired man was still alive, rushing out from behind a stone wall that would soon be obliterated. Watching him steadily approach, the sorcerer scoffed. Did the fool think he could interrupt his spell? Coming out in the open was asking for a swift death, not that taking cover would change anything. However instead of confronting him like before, the man seemed to be doing something different. The throw of the bladed ring was too direct and could be easily dodged. It was then that he remembered the other target he had lost sight of. There came the rumbling of earth from behind, and the sorcerer quickly blocked the erupting stone spire. Then a shadow fell on him, causing him to involuntarily look up. In the blink of an eye, a blurred figure collided into him.