Once more, the Underworld is consumed in darkness. The Age of Obsidian is upon us.  It has been said that Hell hath no fury. This is true, but the dark emperor contains a fury unparalleled to all before him and all who shall follow him. All hope for the Underworld died along with the Horsemen of War, Strife, and Death. Ironically it is war, strife, and death that plagues this place each unremitting day. All is lost. The young boy known as Khellendros has become what his father hated most, though not entirely by his own will. The darkness revoked his former mind and replaced it with a new one. A mind that fights for the forces of darkness. The whereabouts of the young girl known as Khyria and her three friends is still unknown, even after three hundred years. And myself, I still fight for freedom as I had scrounged up what was left of the rebel forces and became their leader. But we cannot win. It is impossible. All we can do is try our best to defend ourselves against the merciless attacks that rage on each day. The dark one's powers increase which each passing second, as his goal of claiming the human world for himself become reality. I ask Andronicus, Zephyr, and Gellidus for strength each day, but at this point, it is as if my pleas go unheard. Please, if anyone can hear my plea, please help us to stop this Devil. Please help light reach this endless void of hate, obscurity, and darkness. Please, send us. . .a Guardian. . .

~****~

Please do not weep

The end is not death

Because it is just beginning

This is not over yet. . .