Voomachu reigned supreme in the Nether. Eons had passed since he first organized the swirling chaos of the nascent subconscious into his Citadel of Despair, a testament to the enduring power of sorrow and unacknowledged guilt. His countless eyes scanned the drifting souls in the Hall of Confession, his disembodied mouths perpetually drawing in the low hum of their collective misery. The Hourglass of Ages, nestled at his core, pulsed with the rhythmic despair of millennia, a constant reaffirmation of his dominion.
But the brief disruption caused by Karl Eterno, the audacious mortal, had left a subtle tremor in the fabric of Voomachu's order. The "echo of the void," a sliver of primordial chaos, lingered at the edges of his awareness, a discordant note in his symphony of suffering. And then came Glen Buckman, the apprentice, who, in his desperate bid for power, had unknowingly amplified this instability. When Voomachu absorbed Glen and the splinter of the Hourglass, the raw potential and chaotic ambition within the mortal acted as a catalyst.