[sub][i][h3][color=d8cfbe]𝕋he 𝔸ftermath[/color][/h3][/i][/sub][hr][color=red]00:25:31[/color] On the cold, polished floor of the Harrow’s Laboratory, there lay a large metal box. About a meter across on all faces, the box seemed perfectly at home amongst the scientific instruments, its reflective sides matching the utilitarian chairs and counters. The only notable aspect on its surface was a small timer, counting down towards zero. [color=red]00:22:49[/color] The box hadn’t been in the laboratory the whole time. It had arrived sometime in the middle of the talks, while the most important figures in the country argued about past injustices, current grievances, about future plans. [color=red]00:17:13[/color] The first day of the talks was over. The guards lingered in the chamber for a little longer as the representatives were ushered out, their expressions varied. It had been a good day for the North, some of their demands having been met. Not all, but many more than expected. There would be no war today. [color=red]00:15:37[/color] A group of soldiers exited the tower posthaste, several stacks of paper stuffed in their courier’s bags - the votes and verdicts, to be taken to House Croan. The results of the talks would be put into effect as soon as possible. Less than a minute later, the soldiers left the keep- one group on wyvern, another on horse, another on foot. A precautionary measure. [color=red]00:09:12[/color] The lords and ladies of Croania split off into their own little parties to discuss the results of the day. A few returned to their rooms to rest. A couple others went to the Observatory. Some went to lunch in the Grand Hall. [color=red]00:01:51[/color] A scuffle broke out at the southern gate to the Keep. [color=red]00:00:47[/color] [color=d8cfbe]“Fuck! Hurry up, we gotta leave right now!”[/color] [color=red]00:00:43[/color] [color=d8cfbe]“Not yet, we can’t go yet, please-”[/color] [color=red]00:00:39[/color] [color=d8cfbe]“Go! Go, go, go, or you’re dead!”[/color] [color=red]00:00:31[/color] Two hooded figures pushed past the guards outside and sent them sprawling. One held tightly onto the other’s wrist as they pulled them along in a sprint, away from the tower. They dashed away from the gates, clearing a remarkable distance in a few seconds. Nobody gave pursuit. [color=red]00:00:04[/color] [color=red]00:00:03[/color] [color=red]00:00:02[/color] [color=red]00:00:01[/color] [color=red]00:00:00[/color] The bomb exploded. A blazing light flooded the halls, consuming everything it touched. It swept outward from the second floor, over the grey stone of the tower walls, over the shingled roofs of the Keep’s houses, over the people and animals and goods of the market. The light spread until it reached the outer bounds of the stone walls guarding the keep, stopping just outside the steel gates. The entire keep was engulfed in a sphere. For everyone inside, however, the world went dark - anyone the light touched fell unconscious. There was no escape. The light passed through walls, armor, even people’s eyelids themselves. It was as if the sensation of brightness itself was transmitted directly into their brains. From the outside, there was no way to see what was happening to the keep. The light reached the outermost point of the keep, preventing anyone from looking within. Then, the sphere collapsed into itself, compressing into a tiny dark point into the center before releasing a shockwave that leveled the trees nearby. The keep was gone. [hr] Or at least, that’s what it looked like for those outside of the keep. If anyone within the keep had been conscious, they would have felt a curious sensation of compression into a single point - almost like being boxed into oneself, before being unfolded again. [center][code]Effect: All individuals with low/average favour begin to experience the symptoms of mana sickness- nausea, vomiting, easily bruising, and possibly even death. Mana will be replenished as it is used. The drain from functions that need mana is no longer felt.[/code][/center] A few townspeople awoke, but they were few and far between. The vast majority lay still on the ground, unmoving. Those that did move witnessed a terrible, frightening sight. The keep appeared to be encased in a transparent bubble. Outside of it, a grey, swirling mass of [i]something[/i] strained and pushed at the bubble. The matter swirled in a chaotic, mesmerizing sort of way that seemed to form patterns that the brain held onto for a moment then let slip. It seemed, [i]powerful[/i]. However, for now, the barrier held. There was a different sort of chaos in the keep below. Harrow’s Tower was in absolute disarray. Each of the individual floors, rooms, and chambers had been rotated, relocated, and mashed together, creating a demented stone spike that jutted towards the upper bounds of the bubble. By the Northern concept of “gravity,” the tower should not have remained standing in its current state, and yet it remained as solid and unmoving as before the blast. The town was no different. Buildings were merged together, crushed together, their rooms intersecting at odd angles and junctions - a few were even suspended in the sky, leaving their inhabitants shrieking and panicked. Still, they were all intact. [center][code]Something about this place defies logic.[/code][/center] In the streets, in their homes, the people of the keep began to fall to the ground once more. The air was so rich in mana that those with low favor were beginning to feel the effects of mana sickness to extreme levels. Most who fell would never rise again.