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For three hundred long years, Valchoric the Skywound had pursued the perfection of his sorcery with a fervor that bordered upon madness.

Plumbing forgotten ruins, bargaining with nameless horrors, and peering into the deepest abysses of creation in pursuit of knowledge that lesser magi scarcely dared to imagine. Kingdoms had risen and collapsed into history while his beard whitened and his mastery grew, and now, standing within the highest chamber of his obsidian tower, he allowed himself the rare luxury of satisfaction.

Because every sacrifice, every atrocity, and every life he had cast into the furnace of his ambition had led inexorably to this singular night! Soon - so, so soon - the fractured realms of Calsaevia would kneel beneath him! And he would reign not merely as a king, but as the first immortal Sorcerer-King of a new age fashioned entirely according to his own design!

His fingers lingered reverently upon the ancient tome resting upon the altar before him, its cracked leather cover whispering of an age beyond memory. Legend claimed that its impossible script had been penned not by any mortal hand, nor even by one of the infernal races known to his world, but by an ancient Demon from a distant dimension whose very existence predated countless civilizations.

But whether the tale was true had ceased to matter him long ago. What mattered was that every ritual contained within its pages had elevated him beyond the limits of conventional sorcery, and tonight he would perform the final rite, the culmination of three centuries spent gathering the impossible ingredients demanded by its inscrutable author.

With practiced precision he placed the freshly harvested heart of his most hated rival upon an altar engraved with countless burning sigils. And then he scattered across its still-warm flesh the powdered bones of a murdered high priest. Finally, drawing a ritual knife across his forearm, he allowed his own blood to rain upon the grisly offering as he raised both hands toward the vaulted ceiling and proclaimed, "Eternal Dark! Shadowed Might of the Infernal Realm! Reveal thyself, and submit unto my will!"

The answer came with terrifying immediacy. Magic erupted through the chamber in quantities that even Valchoric had never imagined possible, and outside his tower the heavens convulsed beneath peals of thunder so violent that the mountain itself trembled beneath their fury. The heart upon the altar detonated into a storm of black lightning that struck him squarely in the chest and hurled him violently across the room, where he crashed through carved stone with enough force to drive the breath from his lungs.

Dazed and gasping, he forced himself upright, only to watch in horrified fascination as the countless arcs of black lightning refused to disperse and instead curved gracefully through the air, weaving themselves into a perfect circle that hovered silently above the shattered altar.

Beyond that impossible ring there was only darkness, but within that darkness he glimpsed the faintest ember, so small and unassuming that for one glorious heartbeat triumph surged through his heart.

At last.. at last! Ultimate victory!

Convinced he had pierced the veil separating his world from the source of infernal power itself, he reached out to it with his magic.

Yet as soon as his magic crossed the threshold of the portal, the ember brightened - impossibly, it felt as if it had turned towards him. Like a pair of insidious eyes having discovered his trespass.

And then, quite suddenly, it swelled with impossible speed until it became a roaring inferno whose boundless darkness stretched farther than his senses could comprehend. And with it descended a presence so immeasurably vast that his knees buckled beneath their weight.

It was no simple power that poured from the breach, but an ancient hatred so absolute that it seemed to resent existence itself! A searing rage that promised only annihilation! As though every living thing across every world deserved nothing more than to burn forever within its embrace!

Valchoric's cry tore itself from his throat as the skin upon his hands blistered and split apart before collapsing into blackened ash, while the flesh of his arms charred all the way to the bone without so much as a single flame touching him.

But despite the pain, he could not look away from the raging inferno, so mesmerized he was by its dark radiance!

"Ah... ahhh... ARGHHHH! MY EYES! MY EYES!"

And his scream of agony echoed only briefly before both he and his tower vanished beneath an ocean of infernal fire. The surrounding forests ignited in an instant, rivers boiled into choking clouds of steam, and the entire countryside itself was consumed in the endless surge of the hunger of the all-consuming fire!

For centuries to come the accursed fire would burn, and the denizens of the continent of Calsaevia would redraw their maps and evacuate their cities as the choking ash and vile miasma twisted the region that generations would call the Everburn.

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Ichigo leaned forward excitedly in his chair, eyes glued to his screen as his fingers rapidly moved across the buttons of the controller in his hand. Due to his illustrious mythical station, he had managed to procure an early-release copy of the brand new Immortal Kombat!

He had been looking forward to this game for months!

However, mid boss fight, he suddenly felt a tingling sensation in the back of his mind. Like something tugging at his shirt, trying to pull him towards a certain direction. With a deep frown, he paused his game and looked up. But then his eyes flew wide in outrage as he realized that the sensation came from somewhere far, far away.

"Is someone fucking spying on me!?" He cried indignatly.

Peering through time and space, he found the perpatrator and, with all the annoyance and irritation he could muster, blew a breath of his demonic energy their way - burning the dimensional connection.

"Fucking paparazzi," he muttered angrily as he turned back to his game.

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A/N: A little late night fun as I finish up the latest chapter.