A mournful hum rang across a mutated island.
Flesh, crimson Heresy, the perpetual storm that hung above it all. The Northern Continent. Heresy had turned it into a mutated mess that surpassed even the sea.
Anything that roamed its surface was rendered a Chimera. From the insects to the massive beasts. A thorough infection comparable to some of the worst apocalypses. All of this Heresy wrought by one man, the Founder!
His hum echoed, the flesh continent bent and twisted to make a clear path for him to walk. He tapped his cane alongside the song. With the perpetual storm lingering over the continent he was able to walk without the wide brimmed fedora he wore with his suit. His partially mangled face now available to see.
It looked like his eyes were sealed shut from the flesh. The entire top half mangled beyond recognition. Occasionally the flesh would split apart to reveal a gruesome eye that peered through. A creature with multiple eyes, barely a human if not for his origins.
