[Suzerain of Sheol]

Days pass, then a week, nearly two as the APC crawls across the Aegean, its confines growing more stagnant and unbearable as time seems to wear on interminably. Still, the shock of Cain's power and the horror of his death hangs as a turgid shroud over the diminished company, driving them to a silence that clutches at despair.

When it finally breaks -- the lifeless monotony of the Sea -- the sight is almost disappointing: a naked coastline, long ago blasted and devastated by the Beast, now reclaimed by barren Nature into a desolation of sand and wind-scoured rocks. But this is the destination they have sought since the beginning, ancient Asia, Anatolia, where the Seven Churches stand among the last mighty bastions of Humanity in the fallen world.

Only mere miles inland, the dominion of Thyat'ria begins. From a throne of steel, Zaccheus the Celestrine wields the Iron Scepter of Morning -- placed into his hoary hands by CHRIST himself -- and has, since the Calamity, created a military protectorate unequaled in the world. Armies of Theurgists and Artificers have flocked to his unyielding banner, giving birth to technologies of miraculous destruction that hold even the threats of the Holy Land to the south at bay.

Here is a place of power.