Beneath your feet, Creation shivers and writhes. It yearns for transformation like a worm in a cocoon that dreams of wings and freedom. A transformation that only the Beast can excite.
The High Templar is dead - and so is whatever abomination of blood magic he became in his desperation. Now it's time to put an end to thaumaturgy once and for all, at its source under the haunted Mount Veruso.