I can see it. Holed away in a part of nothingness. There is no orbit it belongs to. It floats away from all the stars in a total shroud of black as I look at it from afar. I am looking closer and I can see light. Yes, three great looming towers jut from it's core like thorns. Atop each of them is a large cyan fire that blazes on into the dark. It hungers. Warships sit motionless around the thin atmosphere. These are no ordinary ships. They are armored in massive bones and teeth. What could possibly have teeth that large? I see smaller ships, also covered in bone. They slowly lurch to and from the towers. The towers' bases are connected by great walls decorated with corpses. Corpses of all kind and sentient. The shadowed fortress stands silent. It hides within the crevices of the black rock, like an infection that runs deep into old scars. There is a frame. A gateway perhaps? Emptiness fills the hollowed stone and metal. My sight might be failing...wait...The path leads along a bone littered road. It goes up to a great door large enough for the Traveler itself. I think it is opening. The panels groan like they are in agony. Something stirs inside the blackness. Small white and blue lights...eyes, many eyes that seem to contain all the hate in the world lie in that labyrinth. These are Hive, but these are like no other Hive I've envisioned. I see terrifying horns, claws, teeth, and spikes plating their pale bodies. Faded white warpaint etches out their face and limbs. Each and every one is congregated in a procession to the inner sanctums of the underground world. They lead other Hive, much like the ones we know. Why would they do such a thing? Great Ogres are leading and pushing the prisoner Hive deeper within. The Ogres are being ridden by very strange masters, who shriek at the Ogres from their bone saddles. I can't see where they are going. The mass is being pushed into a dark corridor. There is a hum of distress in the air. Wait there are more lights...This place is vile. A great pit filled with blue fire and black water. Along its edge surrounds an entire coven of witches. Three greater ones lead in song. My mind forbids me to hear it. Hive prisoners' screams envelope the room as they are shoved into the pit. I see a shore. From here those who have fallen must climb out onto the shore. They are not the same as I feel fury inside of them. I sense something else. Something very dark. An Ascendant. He slouches in a skeletal throne. Chains loop and hang from each horn. His maw is jagged and sharp. From his side I see an axe. A great war axe that is scratched with the history of many battles over an expanse of what seems to be forever. His eyes. Oh the sight of his horrid face...who is he? When did this vision occur, what is this poisoned world?...I will call for a name. I pray that he does not see me peering...this planet...the name draws closer to my mind...Xyru...Xyru the god world, stronghold to the warmonger and his followers... ... He has seen us! He knows we caused his release, and he wishes to reward us with a gift. The great and terrible gift of death. I grow weary. The sight is becoming clouded. The image is fading from from me, and I from life. -Visions of a dying warlock recorded by his Ghost.