The Lord of Conspiracy sat upon his horrifying throne, stitched together from limbs and flesh.
Two ancient warriors resurrected through secret arts stood at either side of the throne.
Viktor, the Lord of Conspiracy, reclined against the throne and calmly watched the Conspiracy Cabal warriors willing to die for him.
Those warriors were still fortifying their defenses, still holding their ground. They wielded antimatter rifles and could employ heavy weapons left behind by their ancient ancestors, or those trinkets that could be called weapons.
But Viktor knew they would not hold out for long.
Even whether the ancient warriors beside him could accomplish anything was questionable.
Yet Viktor was not afraid. He sat quietly upon the Throne.
He was dressed in full regalia.
Upon his head was the strongest Soul Crown in all of Commorragh.
It was a piece of equipment containing fragments of an Eldar Prophet, capable of safely foreseeing the future. The Soul Helmet Viktor wore contained the soul of a prophet once from Biel-Tan Ark World.
Beneath the Soul Helmet was a Shadow Field, a terrifying-looking mask that could conceal its wearer.
Other accessories possessing various force fields and special abilities covered Viktor from head to toe.
"Death."
"I saw it."
Light shone from Viktor's eyes as the Soul Helmet binding the soul of the Biel-Tan prophet revealed the entirety of the future to him.
Then an anomaly appeared.
At the very center of the defensive position formed by the Conspiracy Cabal warriors, space warped, and a miniature Dyson Sphere flickered into existence.
Its immense gravity instantly tore apart everything around it.
It was gravity like that of a black hole, yet it gave off light.
It gave off light because it wished to, not because the universe possessed some law that allowed light to escape a