Auto-Brahm

There was a land in which things moved fast. Terribly fast. Intricately woven layers of complexity interacting to allow unimpeded movement.

In this land lived a king. A terrible king. Decreed byzantine rules, laws and projections into manifest space in order to maintain exact order.

Upon this land descended a mote. Shining terrible blinding light. Breaking layers of laws, rending manifest space into infinite chaos the anti-order on the right hand of right.

Nearby a doorway stood open. Gaping possibily. Leaving lords lording and thralls thralling, departing a long distant shore, turning, closing the mirror door of self.