The Myth of the Rupture

By High Scribe Uriel of the Seventh Archive, in the Rein of the Forty-Third Matron.

On the Nature of the Veil

The unlearned say the Veil is a barrier—a wall between the living and the Deep Field.

But in truth, the Veil is a lung.

It breathes the Mother's dreams in and out, and through that breath, we are sustained. Every prayer, every death, every act of mercy feeds the rhythm of that breathing. The Red Shade's sin was not curiosity, but interruption. They exhaled when they should have listened.

Their summoning tore the Veil's harmony, creating a disharmony that still echoes. The Hollow Ones, the voices, are the chaos spilled forth from the Rupture.

On the Birth of Men

Let it be understood: Men were not born of joy. They were bled into existence. The Mother, wounded by the Rupture, sought balance in pain.

Her daughters were loyalty; her sons, consequence.

Where women embody the continuity of the Veil, men carry its rupture. This is not shame but burden—the mark of those created to defend against what they summoned by proxy.

Thus, the warrior-brothers must live as shields, never as rulers.

For if the balance tilts again, the breath will fail, and the world will drown in silence.

On the Red Shade's Philosophy

The heretics claimed to seek wholeness—to see the Mother's face. But their doctrine was not love; it was hunger dressed as devotion. Their scarlet veils mocked mourning, for they did not grieve what was lost; they lusted for what was withheld.

To gaze upon the hidden face is to undo sight itself. The Mother veiled herself not in shame but in mercy. Those who tore the covering mistook reflection for divinity—and were consumed by the image they sought.

On the Hollow Ones

Many scholars dispute the Hollow Ones' nature. Some claim they are spirits of the unburied. Others, remnants of the Red Shade's minds. But the truest reading holds that they are unanchored memory. They wear the forms of what they devour, becoming shadows of remembrance. Their hunger is not for flesh, but for context. They consume meaning until even grief forgets its cause.

The living fire within our swords is the only thing they cannot endure, for it is pure remembrance—the Mother's own blood. Still singing her first name.

On Prophecy

The prophecy of "two suns" has been much debated. The Red Shade teach that it refers to the rise of their "Twin Dawns," but we of the Dominion know it as a warning: that when pride and fear burn together, the Veil grows thin.

Some say the second son has already risen—that men's fire burns differently, and that the world will breathe only once more before it exhales for the last time.

Until then, we watch the horizon for red mist. For when it returns, so too shall the double-edged sword. To heal, or to devour.

Read: The Veiled Dominion: Episode II