Eternal Tribulation, Godslayer: I Cut Through Shackles in the Tributaries of Time

In the floating tomb city among the surface ruins of civilization from the Primordial Era, the forest-of-steles market seemed tightly wrapped in an invisible gloom, its oppressive atmosphere making it almost impossible to breathe. The leaden gray light seemed mercilessly crushed beneath the wheel of fate. It struggled to penetrate the heavy clouds, only to be shattered moments later by the jagged shadows of the floating gravestones. The stones were all different shapes and sizes, like discarded game pieces left carelessly by ancient giants, or silent, solemn guardians, hovering in the air with an air of mystery and menace.