Extinction (Certain Death)

[Daeut]

Desperate, necessary measures echo with a haunting of the past as the Republic tastes its first major loss. Its most illustrious figures work around the clock to secure its core countries, while some of them exact the idiom more literally. A nation both vaunted and deplored for its intrigue is wont for secrecy; Aphros has proven no exception to itself just yet. 

It is said that the common folly of man is to not reckon storms in fair weather. Yet it has been the tireless endeavor of those seasoned by the inclement ages of Meranthe to be prepared for the inevitable evil at its doorstep and within. Some are louder than others. They know better than to believe their halcyon ever arrived. The calm preceding the calamity to come has a name, and it has a purpose. 

Into the innermost recesses of Unreality, something stirs in the still silence. None of its denizens can ascertain the source of this eerie upset in their lives--an imperceptible thumping in every which way. The pervasive sensation of restlessness that comes and goes like the wind. The occasional feeling of unshakable, ominous dread heralding the hurricane and earthquake that causes critters to flee.

To those denizens possessed of Unreality's gift, they may yet hearken the palpitations that echo the future.

They need only listen closely.