On the battlefield of the unseen world, multiple wills cautiously tested one another.
Certain unseen intelligences cast interested glances in this direction, but they could not interfere directly. This was the oldest oath in the eternal cosmos, sworn even before the beginning of the Big Bang, before time itself was born. Time held no meaning for these unseen intelligences. They were older than the universe, greater than time. What concerned them was a proxy war, in which a soul they found interesting, desired, and hoped for had made its choice. They waited for the game piece in the real universe to make its move, bringing them an eternal game and allowing them to devour this chaotic, disorderly universe that would ultimately fall into heat death. It would be their hottest, greatest trophy.
A thin sheet woven from semi-liquid crystal, naturally attuned to psychic power, was held between his fingertips. Colored smoke moved slowly within the crystal sheet like bleeding watercolor. The Emperor watched as the colors gradually formed an exquisite miniature painting rich with symbolism. His ever-furrowed brow gained several more lines of worry, and the mental power he projected sent faint ripples across the waters of the Outer Dimensions. This was a sorcerous method that could be called divination, as well as a projection of force he imposed upon the Outer Dimensions—a prophecy established through sympathetic magic, an intentionally guided ending. He had left a mark of his own upon fate. The outcome had already occurred. It was destined, unchangeable, and the eternal oath ensured that the gods could not come here to interfere with this mark.
This was a Tarot Card. Other Tarot Cards made from the same material lay scattered across the holographic table.
Unceasing explosions in the distance shook the deck of the former Star Fortress.