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Avin — The space exploded with a bang. Avin stepped out of the interworld void, and the rift behind him silently closed, forever cutting off the path to the ashes of the fallen Colony. The Prophet straightened up, dispassionately looking around at the alien reality. Its pale skin was crowned with a Crown of Thorns; living blood-red branches pulsated dully, absorbing the aura of the new world. Heavy hands, replaced from the shoulders with prosthetics made of the glossy black bone of dead gods, habitually grabbed the shaft of a colossal two-edged scythe. With bone phalanges intertwined with the soul, Avin unmistakably read the vibrations of this place: the breath of the wind and the distant echoes of someone else’s life. He was once the Owner of the Eight Infinities and could reshape this world with one thought. But he voluntarily released the power of the demiurge. A broken past cannot be mended, and true happiness cannot be created with the snap of a finger. Now before him lay a blank sheet of foundation on which he would build a new house with his own hands. Avin took a slow breath. His body had not needed air for a long time.

Character created by @Авин

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