R ELACIONES DE AYUDA EN LA VEJEZ

Some say the edge of the known cosmos is a wave, forever spreading outward. Further, certain believers in this theory hold that the curve of that wave is

defined by a reflection of everything inward of it, as all that which is beyond it is, by definition, nothing-ness in its truest state. Perhaps the entity known as the Mirror at the End of All Things lurks just on the far side of that eternally onrushing tide, staring back at the reality that sees only itself when it attempts to look outside. The Mirror at the End of All Things has never before been successfully summoned into the Fallen World, though a number of madmen and would-be savants of the Void have certainly attempted such a feat over the ages.

Because of its nature, this entity cannot adopt a particular form within this realm; for to do so is to suffer, even if only slightly, the constraints of material existence. The Gulmoth is nonbeing disincarnate and it cannot be other than what it is. Thus, rather than adapting its nature to suit the Fallen World, it adapts a piece of the Fallen World to encompass its nature.

From the site of the summoning, the Mirror at the End of All Things sends out a wave of Abyssal unreality, to an unknown distance and in an uncertain number of directions. All within that zone at the time of the Gulmoth’s arrival becomes like unto, and, therefore, of the Void. It may spare its summoner, though such is surely not guaranteed, as the Mirror at the End of All Things may or may not even be cognizant of the existence of life within this reality. Lunatic sages of Abyssal lore who know anything at all of the creature contemplate its motivations, but the truth is that such a monstrosity cannot ever be understood by any being that has ever known what it is to exist, at all.

Traits: The Mirror at the End of All Things is a Gulmoth of at least Rank 6 in power, meaning that attributes, Numina, and the like are patently unneces-sary for it. Should this horror actually be drawn into the Fallen World, then only a miracle (or an epic combination of cunning willwork, agonizing sacrifice, and Herculean effort) can bring its manifestation to an end. It may be, in fact, that the spirit has no desire or even ability to interact with this realm, save to spread ever outward, like the wave that bounds it and which drives it back, in an attempt to turn the Universe in upon itself.

Boons: Only a madman would deliberately call the Mirror at the End of All Things into this reality, as the Gulmoth might not offer any boons, at all. Typically, the only sorts of mages who tamper with an Abyssal power on this scale are the Awakened equivalent of suicide bombers, eager to get their hands on one of the most potent weapons between here and the Realms Supernal, merely for the pleasure of dying horrifically

in the wake of its unveiling, along with the rest of some fraction of the world.

Tithe: This nightmarish juggernaut of Void-born malice exacts what tribute it requires, both from its summoner and from everything unfortunate enough to exist in its path. It is an unreasoning hate — life-less and deathlife-less — yearning only to make all that which is cease to be, so that it need no longer feel jealousy toward all that which is, for all that which it is not.

Ban: Should the Mirror at the End of All Things enter into your chronicle, its Ban is best crafted ac-cording to the needs of your story, so as to make for the grandest and most powerful possible conflict.

Needless to say, however, the Ban of such a thing — a veritable god of the Void — should be elaborate in its execution and far-reaching in its consequences;

physical, mental, and spiritual, alike.

Aberrations

Some of the manifestations, behaviors, gifts, sacrifices, and motivations bestowed, demanded, and held by many of the Gulmoth described in this chapter are, to put it mildly, strange. Some of them don’t

even seem particularly malevolent — not inherently more malevolent than many perfectly mundane human beings in the Fallen World, anyway — but all of these bizarre thoughts and behaviors have their origin in an unyielding hatred of all that which exists and the artificial strictures enforced upon the

Gulmoth by corporeal existence within the material realm. The shapes in which willworkers see these entities aren’t their real shapes; they have no “real shapes.” They are fragments of the Void wrenched away from the whole and compelled to take on hateful (and self-loathing) substance within a reality

that reminds them of nothing so much as all they, themselves, do not and cannot possess.

Abyssal spirits engage in weird and inexplicable activities, and are subject to occasionally unfathom-able Bans, to go with their often disturbing and chaotic appearance. This is because they are, essen-tially, glitches in the system of the Fallen World: mad bits of nonsensical code inserted into a

less-than-perfect operating system. As such, they reveal themselves in ways that sometimes appear internally contradictory and/or exacerbate the flaws in the system they infect through their very presence. Mages forget to their own peril the fact that the Acamoth and Gulmoth are nothing more than incarnations of an

incomprehensibly vast universe of hatred, jealousy, horror, and self-destructive lunacy, given material form and some semblance of conscious motivation.