#even echo didn't dare give us imperium caelum - never fear ginger is here to pick up the slack 😍😍

[gingerbreadmonsters]

wip who-even-knows time is meaningless and i am so tired

thank you to my love calico @k9rage for the wip tag - my apologies, this is so desperately desperately late 😵‍💫😵‍💫 ooh, let's have a look... @epsi-l0n @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose - may we peek behind the curtain?? this is, as always, an open tag - if you're reading this, consider yourself tagged! 🥳🥳

under the cut: i think i've mentioned it very briefly before, but i wasn't very specific - we're heading back to the imperium, baby! an au of an au - freelancer, and their terrible, horrible, no-good very bad day 🤩🤩

(CW: blood, death and dead bodies - it's the imperium, so really it's par for the course... this is all happening on the same day as the cataclysm finale, so if that isn't your cup of tea, maybe skip this one!)

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The earth trembles underneath your feet as you run. All you have to do is find Vindemiator. 

You’re anticipating the worst. If he’s still conscious, wonderful. If he’s not, Caelum can cloak him, at least until the worst of it is over. Funnily enough, your saving grace is that there’s almost no way he’s got enough magic left to rift - it means he’s probably still on the Spire grounds, and you still have a chance at finding him. 

In front of you, the Spire stretches high into the grim sky, all smashed windows and blazing, choking smoke. The smaller, secondary towers haven’t fared much better, and the walkways that join them to the main column are all but skeletal. The surrounding buildings cry blood, the small shapes of what must be bodies lying empty wherever you look.

The Spire gates were beautiful - wrought iron, hundreds of years old, twisting and curling into lovely patterns maybe ten feet tall. Unfortunately, the operative word there is were. Now, they’re little more than a blasted heap of metal to match the rest of the place. Picking your way through the debris, it’s almost… sad, in a way you’re not sure how to describe.

The end of an era. A hated one, to be sure, but it’s all you’ve ever known. Will this burning, brave new world be any better?

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