Immortalis and the Seduction of Power Without Boundaries
In the eternal dusk of Morrigan Deep, power is no mere abstraction, no lofty ideal handed down from the stars. It is a primal force, raw and insatiable, embodied in the Immortalis themselves. These beings, neither vampire nor thesapien, but something altogether more voracious, seduce through their very existence. They promise dominion without limit, a realm where appetite reigns supreme, unchecked by morality or consequence. Yet this seduction carries a terrible allure, one that draws all who glimpse it into their orbit, only to crush them beneath its weight.
Consider Theaten, the first Immortalis, son of Primus and Lilith. From his birth, his hungers knew no restraint. Blood, flesh, carnal urges, all gorged upon without pause until The Deep trembled. Primus, foreseeing unrest, cleaved him asunder: The Vero, the refined self, and Kane, the Evro, vessel of primal fury. Even then, merger was permitted, a temporary reunion of savagery and sophistication. Here lies the seduction’s core: power undivided, boundaries dissolved, the self made whole in excess. Theaten’s appetites did not diminish with separation; they merely found new forms, new victims, new thrones upon which to feast.
Nicolas, Primus’s other son, born of the Baer warrior Boaca, exemplifies this further. Raised briefly among warriors before demonic tutelage in Irkalla rendered him peculiar, Nicolas wields Corax Asylum not as sanctuary but as laboratory of the soul. His Evro, Webster, manifests not in flesh but reflection, a rational shadow engineering tortures of exquisite precision: nerve harps, void capacitors, halls of mirrors that warp reality itself. Nicolas declares insanity with a whim, trades tributes for Irkallan favour, and sustains a menagerie of the broken. Power without boundaries seduces him into godhood, where cure is heresy and suffering, business. He mesmerises, manipulates, consumes, his affections as fleeting as they are fatal, each dalliance ending in accident or artifice.
Behmor, lesser Immortalis and King of Irkalla, governs the six circles with chubby indifference, his Evro Tanis a monstrous patchwork prowling the Sioca Glacier. Their dual reign balances bureaucracy and brutality, contracts etched in the Anubium’s ledger binding souls eternally. Yet even Behmor succumbs to the seduction, watching through the Ad Sex Speculum not for duty but diversion, his silken suits hiding appetites no less ravenous.
The Immortalis seduce because they are power incarnate, their forms split yet unified, their hungers eternal. Primus birthed them in imbalance, Lilith schemed their elevation, and Irkalla codified their dominion. No code of the Pauci Electi, no ritual of Immoless, no Darkbadb vigilance can contain them. They draw the world into their feast, promising liberation through submission, ecstasy through excess. Boundaries? Mere illusions for lesser beings. In their grasp, one tastes godhood, only to dissolve into the ledger’s ink.
Their power knows no end, only escalation, a seduction as inevitable as the dusk that cloaks Morrigan Deep.
Immortalis Book One August 2026