The Post Mortum in the Abyss Sky
It began with a flicker—a pale green shimmer above the northern treeline, pulsing in time with no rhythm known to man. The stars themselves recoiled, twitching in silent agony as if straining to avert their gaze from something slithering between dimensions. I heard the chant not with ears but with marrow. A call from deep beneath forgotten sands, where no wind dares crawl. *Iä! Iä!* they murmured, those without form, those who were old when the Earth was still molten thought.