The Tunnel

There is a tunnel, burried beneath the layers of the world, outside time, outside creation. It is dank and musty. It is covered in slime, moss and lichen, pregnant with rot and decay. The walls are smeared with the stale blood of creatures that had been extinct billions of years before the Big Bang.

It is a prison, erected to contain a race of pestilence and destruction that had once spanned the breadth of creation. They spread like cancer, defiling everything in their path, a cosmological b...