Lore & Concept Art
Demon Faction - The Unsated
Souls forced into painful warrior-vessels, forgetting who they are and brainwashed by whoever their masters are, originally Mammon, now the Architect. They are machine, but have incorporated flesh, and over the thousands of years, have felt a deepening hole inside, and crave to reassemble their bodies from flesh. Deeply influenced by emotional triggers, the unsated are thrown back into their first pit fights, joining the fallen army. “Now dark and uprist with wrath, spite and vengeance, Fell your foe and make them fallen too.” Imagine it through the lens of a psychedelic afterlife. Imagine your mind is still alive 10 days after your body has decayed. Imagine with me for a moment a journey. We all have kaleidoscope memories etched in our soul. We commence with a tornado thrumming around, weirdly gentle against your skull, blinding you of your surroundings and full of white noise. With a tug till you are thrown onto the sidewalk. Now bright orange, blue and pink flashes, neon signs begging your attention and it is pleasant for a moment. It turns overwhelming when they multiply in the corners of your vision, and a light blue overtakes you like rain on a windshield, and all the while a growing red appears that cuts through the visual confusion arcing towards you to strike, racing menacingly. Like a dream that ends when you day you gasp as those lines reach and blink tto the next vision, forgetting the fear, excitement, passion of that moment, now in an empty, cold, lonely desert, barely a sand mound for company. Like the journeys of unlocking each chakra but in reverse, a mix of pleasure and pain made to torment you. In the cold, lonely desert, the sands shift, faces forming slowly and receding back. To see a face plunges the mind into an abyss of despair, a new loneliness. You can see the face but it can’t see you, and it talks only to the others. This is to be alone in a sea of people, mirages in a cold desert.
Art Progression by Elliott, Sophia, and Vi
