Chapter Thirty-Six

The broadcast ended, leaving the air in Essos thick with fear and disbelief. Mark Lantrun's chilling words, echoing Oppenheimer's famous line, "I am become death, destroyer of worlds," reverberated across the continent. The rulers of the Free Cities stood frozen, their minds racing as they tried to comprehend the enormity of what they had just witnessed. In mere minutes, the great cities of Slaver's Bay—Yunkai, Meereen, and Astapor—were reduced to smoldering craters. Eden, with its advanced technology and unassailable power, had obliterated them without mercy. The destruction spread across the continent like a shockwave, plunging entire cities into chaos.

In Norvos, the religious capital ruled by the Bearded Priests, the panic hit like a tidal wave. For centuries, the people of Norvos had trusted their faith and their iron-willed priests to guide them through every hardship. The city had stood unchallenged for generations, isolated in its piety and discipline. But now, their gods offered no protection from the terrible power of Eden. In the wake of the broadcast, the great bell atop the towering Monastery of Norvos tolled endlessly, a grim call to prayer.

The streets became flooded with devout Norvosi, their faces streaked with fear, as they gathered outside the Monastery to seek answers. The Bearded Priests emerged from their sanctuaries, their stoic faces betraying none of the dread they must have felt. Clad in their austere robes, they stood before the masses and preached of sacrifice and devotion. They claimed that only through the strictest adherence to the gods could Norvos be spared from Eden's wrath. But the people, normally obedient and fearful of their gods, were now in a state of hysteria. The Priests' words fell on deaf ears.

Mobs formed as people stormed through the streets, setting fire to anything they could find. The once-disciplined city descended into chaos. Families huddled together in their homes, some praying fervently, others screaming out in terror. The Bearded Priests tried to restore order by declaring days of fasting and mass prayer, but even their iron grip on the city's heart was slipping.

Near the great iron gates of the Monastery, a group of fanatics had gathered, clutching ceremonial blades in their hands. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with a mix of terror and zeal. They chanted prayers, slicing open their palms and letting the blood drip into the soil in desperate sacrifice. "The gods demand atonement!" one of them shrieked, leading others to follow suit, believing that their suffering might save them from Eden's fire.

Inside the Monastery, a secret meeting was held among the highest Bearded Priests. Their leader, known as the Grand Hierophant, spoke in hushed tones. "This is divine punishment," he declared, his voice shaking slightly. "Eden's Supreme Leader is no mortal man. He is a false god, a deceiver. But our gods will protect us."

A younger priest, more pragmatic and fearful, interrupted. "What if the gods are silent, Grand Hierophant? What if… what if Eden cannot be stopped?"

The Grand Hierophant glared at him, fury in his eyes. "Blasphemy. We will not fall like Slaver's Bay."

But outside, the streets continued to burn, and the people of Norvos continued their descent into madness. The gods were silent, and the terror of Eden was louder than any sermon.

Qohor, the city of blood and shadow, responded with far darker rituals. The Qohorik were no strangers to sacrifice and dark magic. For centuries, they had worshiped the Black Goat, a fearsome deity who demanded daily blood sacrifices in exchange for protection. As the news of Slaver's Bay's destruction spread, the people of Qohor turned to their altars with renewed fervor. The temples, built of black stone and adorned with images of the Black Goat, became crowded with panicked citizens desperate for salvation.

The high priests of Qohor, their faces painted with ash and blood, declared that the only way to avert Eden's wrath was to make an offering of unprecedented scale. They decreed that thousands of slaves, as well as some of the city's most prominent citizens, would be sacrificed in a single day. The altars, already stained with the blood of countless offerings, ran red as the sacrifices began. Slaves, terrified and bound, were led to their deaths. The high priests chanted ancient prayers, beseeching the Black Goat to shield their city from Eden's destructive power.

The slaughter went on for hours. But as the final throes of the last sacrifice ended, something extraordinary happened. The sky above Qohor darkened, and a massive black dome began to form around the city. It started at the temple, expanding outward, its surface shimmering like a veil of shadow. Soon, the entire city was enclosed within the dome, cutting Qohor off from the rest of the world.

At first, the people outside the city's walls could see nothing. The dome was impenetrable. No sound came from within, and no one knew if the city was still alive or if the Black Goat had taken the entire population as its final tribute. Rumors spread quickly, with some claiming that Qohor had been transported to another realm, while others believed the city had become a cursed tomb.

Merchants and travelers who had been near the city fled in terror, spreading stories of the dark dome that covered Qohor. No one dared approach it, for fear that the dark gods of the Qohorik might strike them down.

The chaos spread beyond Norvos and Qohor to the other Free Cities. Lys, Myr, and Volantis managed to maintain some semblance of control, but their foundations were beginning to crack. The images broadcasted by Eden had shown the leaders of these cities the consequences of clinging to slavery. Their debates became vicious, with factions forming overnight—some demanding the immediate abolition of slavery, others clinging to the old ways out of fear for their power and wealth.

In Myr, the ruling council tore itself apart as different factions vied for dominance. Fistfights broke out in the council chambers, and riots simmered just below the surface. In Volantis, the great families who controlled the city argued over how to respond to Eden's display of power, their discussions growing more violent by the day.

In the city of Lys, once known for its beauty and pleasure houses, there was a somber atmosphere. The slave trade had been the backbone of their wealth for centuries, but now, the ruling elite feared that holding on to this institution would only invite Eden's wrath. Behind closed doors, they whispered of appeasement and reform, but out in the open, they maintained a fragile facade of normalcy.

The World Watches

The Free Cities, once united by the economic and political power of slavery, were now divided and vulnerable. Norvos had descended into chaos, Qohor was hidden beneath its impenetrable dome, and the other cities were teetering on the edge of collapse. The powerful image of Eden's nuclear strike had left an indelible mark on the minds of the people.

As Varys received the flood of messages from his little birds, each one detailing the horror in Essos, he felt a deep unease. He had always known Eden to be a formidable power, but now it had proven itself to be a threat unlike anything the world had ever seen.

The Free Cities had been laid low by the sheer force of Eden's technological and military might, and Varys could not shake the feeling that Westeros might be next. Eden had already begun its diplomatic efforts in King's Landing, charming the court with promises of trade and prosperity. But what was their true goal? What was Eden's endgame?

As Varys prepared for his journey to Pentos to verify the news for himself, he couldn't help but wonder if the world was about to change forever—if Eden had already begun to reshape the future in its image.