“god of many, soul of such, may thee bless thy with an encounter with thou.”

it didn’t rhyme. of course it didn’t. rhyming wasn’t one of the spectre’s strong points, neither was writing poems or doing anything of the sort. he frowned upon the hobby, actually—called it something only “sissies” would do. in his books, sissies were the sort of people who would only do stuff included in female-dominated fields. he didn’t find any problem with it, but then again, he was already massly-hated enough by all of his victims, & any more hate he’d get would be beneficial to him. the spectre had victims. many. a lot of them had fallen under his command in this forsaken land against their own will, but this one character—some noli guy, apparently a god, though nowhere near as powerful as the spectre himself—joined forsaken willingly. pleased by noli’s compliance in joining forsaken, the spectre allowed the guy to keep most of his memories & granted him with the pass to join & leave the forsaken land as he pleased.

what was the spectre trying to pull off with this rhyming scheme of his? well, it certainly wasn’t a part of his daily routine, so he must have had a good reason behind it. he did. he was trying to summon himself into another realm, out of forsaken. some place that housed a god, a god more powerful than himself. spawn. the spectre was familiar with spawn. sort of. after all, he had forsaken two of the cultists that were a part of the cult devoted to the god, so he deemed himself an “expert” on the matter. he didn’t know the first thing when it came to spawn, though, but he’d never admit that to anyone’s face.

the spectre was kneeling down on the floor of his own realm, which was attached to forsaken yet not necessarily a part of it. it was like a place where the spectre could watch on what went on in the forsaken realm whilst not putting himself in danger at the same time. he had his hands clasped, tucked under his chin, eyes closed as he mumbled those goddamn rhyming words underneath his breath so that he could get sent to the spawn’s own realm. & why did he want to do that? he wanted to see something.

not to see whether or not the god was real. he knew better than to question the existence of deitical beings; instead, he had been hearing rumours from the survivors in forsaken. he had access to their heads & minds whenever he pleased, & that’s how the spectre heard about the rumour of the spawn, the god itself, being dormant. & the spectre, being his usual stubborn self, wanted to find out whether that was real or not…& to see if he could wake the spawn up.

when the spectre opened his eyes again, he got flash-banged. instantly, massive floods of bright-white light infiltrated into his pupils, causing the being to recoil & slam the palms of his hands over his eyes, groaning in frustration. he eventually managed to regain his eyesight however, & got back up onto his feet from the kneeling position he was still locked in & had a good look around, his eyes quickly adapting to the harsh white light that contrasted massively with his own personal realm—which was the polar opposite of this current one he was in. it was dark, to put it simply.

“hello? spawn-..thing?? are you here or just dead or asleep?”, the spectre called as he continued to wander around, quickly becoming quite frustrated at the absence of the god. he technically was promised by the book he read on spawn that the god was real & welcomed technically anyone into their realm…yet he’d missed the section that said that only members of the spawn cult were welcome to their realm.

“if you don’t show up soon, i’m just going to leave, y’know. kinda rude to not welcome a guest..”