the depths beneath Tyrael’s feet. He heard a gurgle and bubble of liquid, as if a long-dead spring had come to life. His entire body turned to ice as the world around him grew black and Wisdom’s domain disappeared; he was aware of a void that he peered into like a world beyond the stars, where the blackness was deeper than the darkest night .
Within the darkness, he saw sparks dance like fireflies, shooting across the liquid surface as it expanded rapidly, growing larger and larger. The rim of the chalice receded and then disappeared into the distance, and Tyrael fell into the depths, tumbling through this world into another, toward oblivion .
As he neared the surface, he realized that it was an intricate web created from endless strands of light, all of them rippling as pulses ran back and forth along their lengths, moving from one to the other at incredible speed. Dimly, some part of him realized that his physical body was still standing motionless somewhere far above him and that his consciousness had broken free. But he could not stop his descent, and as he struck the first strands, he instinctively threw his arms up as if to ward them off, bracing for impact .
It never came .
When Tyrael regained his senses, he had come to a halt within the web itself. He was seeing without eyes, sensing what now enveloped him with sizzling energy. Strands of bright light ran everywhere, passing through him in a way that made him shiver; the strands were not warm, as sunlight would be, but bitter cold .
A strange feeling fell over him, a sense of endless euphoria mixed with dread. In a flash, everything became clear; all the threads that had appeared to lead nowhere had been brought together as one. The light was woven in a brilliant pattern that he could suddenly grasp with little effort, and he could see the connections of all angels and demons within it .
The other archangels were assembling against him even now .
He saw their fear. His decision to become mortal overwhelmed them. It was a choice they could not understand, and they sought to banish itfrom their minds. Just as he had feared, the Black Soulstone had begun to corrupt the light that sustained them, twisting it into something dark and distorted. Valor was evolving into wrath, and Tyrael knew that eventually, it would move toward hatred and mass murder. Imperius would be driven to rule with an iron fist and was bound to destroy Sanctuary in the process. Fate was slowly becoming lost within the endless scrolls in the library, unable to see any possible orderly outcome. Itherael would become helpless or, worse, begin to make decisions that would doom them all. And Auriel, who had recently been a prisoner of Despair, had already begun to lose sight of any hope in what would come and would rule out of fear, rather than from a sense of the goodness in all things .
The Heavens would soon be lost. The stone’s corruption must be stopped. It would bleed the light from them all, sucking away what was good and holy and replacing it with darkness, violence, and death .
Tyrael’s chill deepened, settling into his bones. Something changed; he sensed another strand of light that was powerful and ran deep, but unlike the others, this one’s identity was strangely hidden to him. He tried to turn to seek it out, but it was elusive; it seemed to sense his own presence and move away, almost as if it were watching him .
Suddenly, that no longer mattered. The emotions he had formerly held in check began to overflow, and the strange light strand was lost. Chalad’ar was acting on him in ways he could not fully grasp, but his thoughts started to change as he saw where all these strands would lead. Death was the inevitable result of everything—the slow crumbling, the decay that must come. The end of all things. He understood the connections between all creatures, the threads that joined everything together. With this knowledge, what did life mean? Why value any single life in the
Within the darkness, he saw sparks dance like fireflies, shooting across the liquid surface as it expanded rapidly, growing larger and larger. The rim of the chalice receded and then disappeared into the distance, and Tyrael fell into the depths, tumbling through this world into another, toward oblivion .
As he neared the surface, he realized that it was an intricate web created from endless strands of light, all of them rippling as pulses ran back and forth along their lengths, moving from one to the other at incredible speed. Dimly, some part of him realized that his physical body was still standing motionless somewhere far above him and that his consciousness had broken free. But he could not stop his descent, and as he struck the first strands, he instinctively threw his arms up as if to ward them off, bracing for impact .
It never came .
When Tyrael regained his senses, he had come to a halt within the web itself. He was seeing without eyes, sensing what now enveloped him with sizzling energy. Strands of bright light ran everywhere, passing through him in a way that made him shiver; the strands were not warm, as sunlight would be, but bitter cold .
A strange feeling fell over him, a sense of endless euphoria mixed with dread. In a flash, everything became clear; all the threads that had appeared to lead nowhere had been brought together as one. The light was woven in a brilliant pattern that he could suddenly grasp with little effort, and he could see the connections of all angels and demons within it .
The other archangels were assembling against him even now .
He saw their fear. His decision to become mortal overwhelmed them. It was a choice they could not understand, and they sought to banish itfrom their minds. Just as he had feared, the Black Soulstone had begun to corrupt the light that sustained them, twisting it into something dark and distorted. Valor was evolving into wrath, and Tyrael knew that eventually, it would move toward hatred and mass murder. Imperius would be driven to rule with an iron fist and was bound to destroy Sanctuary in the process. Fate was slowly becoming lost within the endless scrolls in the library, unable to see any possible orderly outcome. Itherael would become helpless or, worse, begin to make decisions that would doom them all. And Auriel, who had recently been a prisoner of Despair, had already begun to lose sight of any hope in what would come and would rule out of fear, rather than from a sense of the goodness in all things .
The Heavens would soon be lost. The stone’s corruption must be stopped. It would bleed the light from them all, sucking away what was good and holy and replacing it with darkness, violence, and death .
Tyrael’s chill deepened, settling into his bones. Something changed; he sensed another strand of light that was powerful and ran deep, but unlike the others, this one’s identity was strangely hidden to him. He tried to turn to seek it out, but it was elusive; it seemed to sense his own presence and move away, almost as if it were watching him .
Suddenly, that no longer mattered. The emotions he had formerly held in check began to overflow, and the strange light strand was lost. Chalad’ar was acting on him in ways he could not fully grasp, but his thoughts started to change as he saw where all these strands would lead. Death was the inevitable result of everything—the slow crumbling, the decay that must come. The end of all things. He understood the connections between all creatures, the threads that joined everything together. With this knowledge, what did life mean? Why value any single life in the
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