Celestivorus

Celestivorus is an incomprehensible being, a deity whose form is a living planet with a voracious appetite for celestial bodies. Their surface roils with volcanic activity and tectonic shifts, their eyes are twin stars burning with insatiable hunger, and their mouth is an abyss capable of swallowing worlds whole.

They were birthed from the chaos that preceded creation, from the swirling dust and gas that would form galaxies. They awoke with an endless hunger, an imperative to consume that which had given them life. Their passage through space is marked by the remnants of devoured planets and extinguished stars, the silence of the void their only companion.

Celestivorus's following is sparse, primarily composed of doomsday cults and those who have forsaken hope. These cultists, known as the Star Swallowed, act as a beacon for Celestivorus and help guide the beast to planets worthy of devouring. The more life on the planet, the better.

The Night When Stars Fell is whispered across the cosmos, not as a mere event, but as an cosmic defining catastrophe. The civilization that provoked the ire of Celestivorus was known as the Aetherion Dominion, a society that prided itself on harnessing the energies of stars and bending planets to their will. Their gleaming cities were beacons of progress, their technology a pinnacle of mortal achievement, their influence a weave across the fabric of space-time.

But their light was too bright, their reach too bold, and their echo through the cosmos too loud. They summon planets themselves through space gateways to harness their power, but they flew too close to the sun and accidentally called upon Celestivorus and let it into their realm.

When Celestivorus arrived, it was not with fury but with finality. Their massive form blotted out the stars, their gaping maw a pit of despair from which no light could return. System by system, the stars were snuffed out, their planets and people consumed in a silent scream that tore through the heavens, leaving behind only the void and the faint cries of the Dominion’s last children.

The darkness that followed was absolute. It was not just the absence of light but the absence of future, of dreams, of the very concept of tomorrow. Entire cultures, languages, and histories were devoured, leaving behind a silence that echoed through space. The Aetherion Dominion was unmade, its legacy reduced to cosmic dust and cautionary tales whispered by stargazers on distant worlds.

It is said that the first followers of Celestivorus were actually the only survivers of this event and started to use their powers to herald Celestivorus to bring an end to civilizations that refused to help as Dominion fell.