And the Sun of Dunis hung low in the sky, as strange membrane waves of pink and purple crashed forth from Charymdis, the City of Eternal Mortals. A shriek pierced the corners of the world. Uncontrolled. Wild. Fearful. Deathly. For a moment, all was still - silent - every eye transfixed upon the Atternis Atenata, the floating mountain magocratic districts above the city, the seeming source of this madness. Then it appeared. Eyes of the deepest black; unseeing, unlit. Unsettling, almost as if it wasn't colour, but pure absence of light. The crashing waves began to swirl in a vortex around the eyes. Around the city. A roar trembled across all planes. The ground trembled, shook, then heaved, as the Weave exploded, shards of magic rippling through air, flesh and stone. And all began to evaporate.