In the shadowed annals of Morrigan Deep, power and desire twist together like the barbed wire Kane strings through the Varjoleto Forest, each feeding the other’s relentless hunger. The Immortalis, those fractured gods born of Primus’s own appetites, embody this entanglement more vividly than any other force in the world. From the first gorge of Theaten on the blood and flesh of vampire and thesapien alike, to the calculated cruelties of Nicolas in his crypt-like cells, the pursuit of dominion arises not from mere ambition, but from an insatiable craving that blurs the line between creation and consumption.
Theaten’s birth marked the genesis of this fusion. Primus, weary of chaos, inscribed his son as Immortalis in the Rationum, but Theaten’s urges proved too vast for one form. He gorged, he ravaged, his sadism igniting unrest across The Deep. Power, then, became the tool to contain desire: Primus split him into Vero and Evro, true self and primal beast, a dual body to cage the excess. Yet the merger persists, a temporary unleashing that promises wholeness, reminding us that Immortalis power is forever yoked to the need for release. Desire drives the fracture; power enforces it.
Nicolas carries this legacy into grotesque precision. His Corax Asylum, that festering warren of mirrors and clocks, stands as monument to the knot. He declares insanity with a wave, trades tributes for Irkallan writs, builds devices like the Nerve Harp and Void Capacitor Chair not merely to punish, but to sate. The beds with straps, the rusty scalpels, the underfloor heating that blisters feet, all serve the dual throne of control and carnality. Inmates strapped, drained, devoured, their bodies fuel for his nocturnal amusements. Power manifests as the asylum’s labyrinth, desire as the petty tortures that follow. He watches Lucia through his hall of mirrors, her blisters throbbing, her mind fraying, and calls it hospitality. The Long-Faced Demon emerges in lust’s flicker, fangs lengthening as the hunt begins. Even his mercy is entanglement: he prolongs Lucia’s suffering for Theaten’s dungeon, trading one appetite for another’s feast.
This is no aberration. Primus birthed the world from solitude’s offence, stars and Morrigan Deep to grant sensation. Lilith’s cult rose from her greater need to dominate, her plan to chain Primus thwarted only by his countermeasures. The Brotherhood of the Darkbadb, the Electi, the tribute breeding, all balances forged from desire’s imbalance. Immortalis inherit this: Theaten’s twins, Nicolas’s peculiarity from maternal severance, Behmor’s creation from stolen flesh. Power erects Irkalla’s circles, the Ad Sex Speculum’s gaze, yet desire erodes them, demanding merger, consumption, the momentary godhead.
Allyra disrupts this calculus, her third Immoless anomaly forcing the knot tighter. Nicolas spies her boiling vampires, her resistance to mesmerism a thrill he cannot resist. He gifts Ghorab, the raven that tracks yet connects, and in her defiance finds the ultimate prey. Power bids him drain her sovereignty; desire compels the bed, the bite, the fracture into Chester. Their triad, blood-shared and sensation-linked, peaks in ecstasy’s violence, yet fractures under possession’s weight. She yields, submits, declares him master, but the cycle persists: control begets rebellion, desire begets the lash.
In Immortalis, power is desire’s scaffold, desire power’s engine. The Deep endures eternal dusk not from cosmic whim, but from this perpetual churn, gods splitting and merging, building asylums and sieges to feed the void within. To untangle one is to collapse the other; they thrive entwined, as inevitable as the next toll of Nicolas’s clocks.
Immortalis Book One August 2026