In the Mesopotamian Pantheon the collapse of their universe had reached its terminal phase.
Across the tapestry of their universe, ancient and venerable dimensions and temples were being snuffed out like candles in an encroaching gale.
For the once proud and ancient pantheon, the transition was most jarring.
Ereshkigal, Queen of the Underworld, stood upon the obsidian battlements of Kur.
Above her, the "Overworld"—the once-glorious plains of Sumer and Akkad—was a nightmare of purple fires and dissolving geography.
The golden ziggurats were being ground into dust by the invisible teeth of the Outer Ones.
There were no longer life left in their. Or rather, it is no longer possible to even stand there and remain alive.
So all the remaining gods, bloodied and humbled, had retreated to the absolute depths of the Underworld.
Here, the laws of death provided a temporary, brittle sanctuary against the forces of chaos.
