I
"His Eminence Enthroned On Greymount"
From that age of Grey, Birthing of the Dyadlord,
There sowed no life, there reaped no death.
But from Grey muddled skies, He descended,
Forthcame new, and heralded His crowning.
The world convened then, like a herd, and came,
Man, Beast, God, had conceived His Greyenflesh.
And ashen so was His body, waxen was His soul;
And from abrupt slaughter, all fell silent in Stupor.
The world had slept, turned pallid, under Him.
Corpses merged to form His Grey gore crown,
Souls dilute, melded to forge a pale sword.
The world bore no life, nor death, but Torpor.
The world stayed still, stagnantly silent;
Alive all remained, but mindless minds shaped,
Shaped their life into Grey stagnation, and one became two,
Became mixed with all flesh, to form what was ordained.
The world was ordained, His voice engrained eternally,
To create a new world from the ashes of the past: Greyrealm.
From His command came the mockery of life,
Metal forged from corpses, bent and broken: Greyflesh.
The world was formed anew, and it became His realm:
Pale were the skies; murky were the seas; Flesh were the lands,
And in the highest peak, He stood unparalleled.
Paramount above all, His Eminence enthroned on Greymount.
II
"Here Did Death Die Grey"
The world would scarce be enough,
So I reached upon that glorious Star,
My Flesh ascended, willingly,
And so burned, closing upon its radiance.
The Star waned, flickering, 'till it too turned Grey.
I alone bathed in its last light as the world plunged deep,
Deep into eternal Grey skies, and all was dark.
But upon sight, I saw abounding stars, within my Grey skies.
And so it was, decreed from my Eternal Greymount, encompassing,
"Let my Flesh be Greyenholy; upon this omnipotence, I command:
Devour all that is, all that ever shall be, 'till all be Grey from my Flesh.
When the time doth come that this Reality be gourmandised by my Flesh,
Let it be written in monoliths of history, the herald of my emergence:
I shall return upon the throne that was erected from my name, in the Fifty-first Domain,
In that Land beyond all lands, Penitentiary and Sanctuary."
Once Reality ceases into Stupor, and Insensibility enshrouds all, may I reign undivided,
Whence all shall arise from the Stagnant Cosmos; my Stupor is the catalyst of life.
For there shall be no brilliance, nor shadow, but the cold ash from Dead Stars,
And from them, I cast life insensate and split their souls in twain; yes, Divinity is Twain-headed.
My Flesh shall think no more but know of their state, miserably incarnate.
May their life be no more, yet still, stagnant and ceaseless, for it is within their strife,
A strife of self-comprehension, of being capable of thought, that I reign in them in perpetuity,
And stagnation feasts in them and settles in their minds; to be my Flesh is wholly their fate.
Within this Pale Cosmos, here, did Death die Grey, and of Its name, I erased it into oblivion,
Into obscurity, where in this newborn Reality, Death is no more, and Stupor eternal evermore,
One with nature itself, for I have rewritten its laws, eviscerated its Reality from which all is now mine.
Now Stupor is the end of all, the Stars whose brilliance will only decay into ashen corpses,
The Worlds who now only inhabit my Flesh, the Reality that I have conquered in Its name,
All is mine to grasp and hold, all is under my will of Greyen Kingship, Reality is hereby of my name.
"To all that is left, heed my words: no longer divest yourselves of Flesh, for it is now thy Purpose,
Thy Purpose that is and shall always be, for here in this realm and beyond, all is my Greyenflesh!"
III
"From An Empty Throne Come His Emergence"
An Empty Throne lay in wait for a Pale King whose name is lost to time immemorial, and now he had come to remind all—men, beasts, and gods—of his Greyenholy presence: Primordial Genesis of Insensibilities; Great Monarch of Greyrealm; Paramount King of All Kings atop Greymount; Grand Dyadlord of Stupor and Torpor; and Overlord Above the Greycosmos—Ucraizar Vui'neia Y'liad Elyion.
The symbol of Upsilon shone like pallid moonlight in the Fifty-first Domain, and so heralded his immediate emergence in that Land beyond all lands from an Empty Throne. Not once had the Domain ever felt the presence of the Greyking, less so the sight of his form, and even in times of prehistory, his existence was still a mystery. Only those in that Pantheon of which he is a part had known, seen, and conversed with him.
The Greyking had devoured the Realm that is now of his name, the Cosmos that he had stagnated into an absolute halt solely through his Greyenflesh. And now that his Realm is complete, thrown into utter, undivided Stupor, he had finally returned to his predestined Throne—one of many seats of other gods and goddesses as great as he—in the Realm hidden and behind all realms.
The domain entire and everything within it had ceased to move. This emotion that all had felt was like no other, for it was not fear, but the complete ceasing of everything, of anything. All were unable to think, unable to do anything from the Great Stupor that weighed down upon their very souls, their minds, and their bodies—"The Scourging of Souls, the Melding of Minds, the Flaying of Flesh." These were the horrors that were done to those bodies that were the foundations of the King's terrible Greyflesh, and these too did all of them, object or not, feel within the Domain and beyond.
The King stared uninterestedly at the golden-lined region. He felt chaos and order within these enclosed cages they call domains, and the Greyking felt disgust for the first time, to see nothing of his nature; to see nothing of the stagnancy and stupor of everything was deeply sickening to him. He scattered from the domain as quickly as he had arrived, and the control that was taken from everything returned to its normality. Perhaps it was not yet the people's, the beasts', or the realm's fate to become Greyflesh, but they had now known of the emergence of King Y'liad.