The End of Tep

There was no cure for the disease. Tep died in excruciating agony, only to resurrect moments later, drawing power from his Vault. Each time he returned, the disease claimed him again, dragging him through another cycle of torment.

He lived in endless suffering. Died. Resurrected. Suffered. Died again.

And so it continued.

The fall of the Hikut Empire was swift and absolute. Their cities crumbled into dust, leaving behind only ruins as a faint echo of their once-great people. New nations rose in their place — Kania, Hadagan — and in time, the memory of the Zem faded into legend.

Their tombs were buried beneath the sands, forests grew over their forgotten graves, and Tep’s Pyramids — his cursed monuments — remained scattered across the world, untouched by time.

And all this while, for over 1,500 years, Tep remained trapped in his endless cycle of death and rebirth.

This was the price of immortality.

Then came the Cataclysm, the event that shattered the world into floating allods.

Several of Tep’s Pyramids were destroyed, and millions of trapped sparks were suddenly set free.

These lost sparks, no longer bound by their prison, sought their rightful vessels — the bodies of the ancient Zem. But those bodies had long since decayed, reduced to little more than withered husks and rusting remnants.

And yet, something new was born.

The Arisen Zem — not mere undead puppets like those raised by necromancers, but thinking, feeling beings. They retained their will, their memories, their history — and, above all, their burning desire for vengeance against Tep, the one who had doomed them.

And yet, in a twisted way, Tep had fulfilled the ultimate goal of his people.

The Zem had found immortality.

Though their bodies were dead, they would never age, and only violence could bring them true death.

And so the words of the old Zem Mechanists rang true at last:

"That which is already dead can never die again."