Forum:Lore:Current of Fate
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Current of Fate is a Lore book added in [REDACTED] which serves as a bibliography of Anziluu, the Ravenous , his Cult and the various Scribes of Anzû, serving as a rudimentary 9th Book of Sorrow. Entries are unlocked by finding books within the Realm of Apocrypha.
I—Abaarhis—Paroxysmal
Verse 9:1 — Servitude
I have seen the end of all things. As everything is calcified into a perfect state, I see what will be.
And that it cannot be.
This weary tome of mine has given me the clarity I so desired. To break free from the hold of the Fanatic's grasp. I was destined to be freed by his hand.
The hand of my subjugator.
The Oracle, Ravenous had given me the clarity of the events that are inevitable to come. Not only the end, but the grand subjugation of my kind to that of a much older whisper.
Their goal is too dissimilar to that of the Hive's way of life. To end all suffering by ending the game itself, rather than to remove all things that deserve their final deaths.
But it is heresy for me to exist.
I had always sought the secrets of the Hive and the Deep. This tome of mine was to be that key, but to that of the greatest revelation. The Sword Logic is not he proper end to all things, so I must assist in writing this new Book of Sorrow. I write this in servitude to my new god.
This is as it must be. Aiat.
II—Darrik-7—Contradiction
Verse 9:2 — Haste
I should not have found and opened that damned book.
I can feel his words echoing throughout my mind. Scattered memories refract and reverberate in my metallic skull as the many voices of a choir sing their song.
They had warned me not to drudge up ancient secrets within Luna from the grave. But they didn’t say that an ancient God of Truth and Fate had tethered themselves within these books.
The choir becomes louder by the minute. My mind begins to shatter. This isn't right. The Hive kill, but this one does not have that desire. This one wants to subjugate the minds of others to become scribes of these tomes.
The scattered thoughts, they begin to move in unison. Ancient strings pull them together to make a singular thought. I see the book that I hold in my hands.
It was fate that dictated I would find this tome.
The choir falls silent. I know what I must do. I must use the tome to take me to this new realm of memory and fate.