Veyrath had watched from the dark.
Had let Unmaking spread in whispers.
Had allowed the world to remain ignorant.
But now, ignorance would end.
The Unmaking was no longer a secret.
It was no longer a whisper.
It was a storm.
And storms did not hide.
They consumed.
They erased.
And they remade.
Now, the world would see the truth.
Now, it would watch its own transformation—
And it would be helpless to stop it.
Veyrath did not strike randomly.
He did not choose a town that would crumble easily.
He chose one that would fight.
That would resist.
A fortified city, surrounded by high walls, ruled by lords who thought themselves beyond reach.
A place that believed in its own strength.
And that was why it had to fall first.
Because when a city that believes itself untouchable is erased—
The world feels it.
And fear spreads faster than war.
The first to enter were not warriors.
Not Hollowed.
Not Ascended.
They were Forsaken.
Beings that no longer moved through the world as mortals did.
They walked through streets, unseen.
Not because they were invisible—
But because the mind refused to hold onto them.
The people of the city glimpsed them in passing,
Felt a presence they could not name.
And then forgot.
Forgot who they had been talking to.
Forgot why they suddenly felt uneasy.
And in that forgetting,
The Forsaken began their work.
Because their presence alone was enough to unmake the first cracks in reality.
It started subtly.
A merchant disappeared—
Not stolen away.
Not killed.
Simply gone.
His store remained.
His goods untouched.
But his name, his face—erased.
His neighbors felt the absence but could not explain it.
They did not speak of it, because they did not understand what was wrong.
Then, the next day, it happened again.
And again.
Until an entire section of the market felt… empty.
Even though it was still full of people.
But people who no longer knew who they were supposed to see.
Reality was shifting, breaking.
And no one even realized it was happening.
It took days for the city to notice.
By then, it was too late.
People began remembering the absences, even though they could not name them.
They felt something was wrong.
And that fear began to grow.
They looked for their guards, their rulers.
For answers.
For protection.
And that was when Veyrath sent in the Hollowed.
Not to fight.
Not yet.
But to speak.
To spread the words of Unmaking, as they had done in the settlements.
And some people listened.
Because fear made minds open.
And once fear took root—
The Hollowed's whispers became difficult to resist.
The rulers of the city reacted as all rulers do.
They saw chaos, and they sought to control it.
They ordered the guards to seize anyone spreading fear.
To restore order.
But they did not understand what they were facing.
Because the Hollowed did not fight back.
They simply let themselves be taken.
Let themselves be dragged before the ruling lords.
And when they stood in the grand halls, surrounded by warriors and nobles—
They did not beg.
They did not plead.
They simply smiled.
Because by the time the rulers realized what had happened—
It was already too late.
Veyrath did not attack with an army.
He did not break the walls, did not march his forces through the gates.
He simply let the Unmaking spread from within.
The rulers, the nobles, the guards—they began to forget.
Not all at once.
Not instantly.
But piece by piece.
Their titles.
Their purpose.
The very reason they held power.
It was erased from them.
Not with force.
Not with violence.
With absence.
They lost themselves.
And when they no longer knew who they were—
The city was already his.
The soldiers stood, waiting for orders that never came.
The nobles wandered their halls, unable to remember why they were there.
The merchants forgot their debts, their wealth, their trade.
The people forgot what had frightened them—
And so they no longer feared.
They simply existed.
Waiting.
And that was when the Ascended arrived.
Not to fight.
Not to conquer.
But to bring order to the city that had already fallen.
Without a war.
Without resistance.
Because a city that has forgotten what it is—
Has no reason to resist at all.
The fall of a single town had gone unnoticed.
The fall of a second had been whispered about.
But a fortified city?
A place that had stood for generations?
Its collapse was impossible to ignore.
Word spread.
Rulers took notice.
Priests spoke of an unnatural curse.
The world now saw the Unmaking for what it was.
Not a hidden corruption.
Not a mere cult.
But a force that was reshaping reality itself.
And fear spread faster than Unmaking ever could.
Because now, the world knew that something was coming.
That something was here.
And it did not ask for permission.
It did not need to fight wars.
It simply erased what was, and replaced it with something new.
And that was a threat no army had ever faced before.
Veyrath did not need battles.
Did not need armies clashing in blood-soaked fields.
He did not fight for land.
Did not raise banners or call for war.
Because war was wasteful.
War was predictable.
And Unmaking was beyond such things.
The world had seen its first true collapse.
A fortified city had fallen without a single siege engine, without a single battle.
And now, it was time to do it again.
Not once.
Not twice.
But everywhere.
The fall of the first fortified city was not just a tragedy.
It was a revelation.
The world had seen what Unmaking could do.
And it was terrified.
Priests spoke of an unholy force.
Rulers gathered in councils, seeking to understand what had happened.
Soldiers waited for orders that never came—
Because their commanders did not know how to fight something that did not march, did not attack, did not even announce itself.
It simply appeared.
And then, people vanished.
Ideas vanished.
Entire cities forgot themselves.
And no army could fight something that did not take the field.
Veyrath's methods did not change.
They did not need to.
The Forsaken entered first, unseen.
They were not invisible—
But the mind refused to recognize them.
They passed through crowds, through streets, through palaces.
And reality shuddered in their wake.
The first disappearances began soon after.
A merchant's name faded from memory.
A noble's title became unspoken.
A guardsman stood at his post, unaware that the commander he reported to had never existed at all.
And just like before, the city crumbled inward.
Not to war.
Not to destruction.
But to Unmaking.
The fall of one fortified city had been a warning.
The fall of two was a crisis.
But when a third fell—
It became a plague.
And as the pattern repeated itself—
The world began to lose its grip on stability.
Merchants refused to travel.
Villages abandoned their roads, sealing themselves off.
Messengers arrived in cities that no longer remembered who had sent them.
Rulers feared their own courts, wondering which of their advisors might vanish next.
And across the lands, the whisper spread.
The Unmaking is here.
And it is not coming for our cities—
It is coming for us.
Some tried to flee.
Towns emptied overnight, people abandoning their homes before they could disappear.
But Unmaking was not tied to places.
It did not consume land.
It consumed people.
And when the first refugee caravans reached safe lands—
And found that they, too, had already begun to forget their own names—
The panic became unstoppable.
Because it was not about walls.
Not about defenses.
It was about the mind itself.
And when a force could attack your thoughts, your past, your very existence—
There was nowhere left to run.
The rulers of men were slow.
They sought answers, debated, argued.
But the priests?
They saw the truth faster than anyone.
And they reacted first.
The Holy Church of the Radiant Light declared the Unmaking to be a force beyond mortal corruption.
A plague that threatened the very soul of the world.
And for the first time in centuries—
The Church called for a Crusade.
Not just an army, but a holy war.
Not just warriors, but paladins, exorcists, inquisitors.
People who did not simply fight evil—
But sought to burn it from existence itself.
And their first marching orders were clear.
Find the source.
Eradicate it.
No matter the cost.
Veyrath watched the world tremble.
Watched kings argue, armies hesitate, priests call for divine intervention.
And he did not stop.
He moved to the next step.
A capital city.
A place where thousands lived.
Where rulers sat on thrones, believing they controlled the fate of nations.
And he let the Forsaken walk among them.
Let the Hollowed spread their whispers.
Let the Ascended prepare for the moment the city finally fell.
Because this time, it would not just be a city.
This time, the world would witness a kingdom collapse in real-time.
This time, they would watch a ruler forget his own name, his own laws, his own people.
And they would understand.
That Unmaking was not a threat they could fight.
It was a force beyond resistance.
And no army could stand against something that erased them before they ever took the field.