Although he had had no memory of having graced the halls of such a place in the past, the burning sensation within the chamber of his heart suddenly spoke to him, more and more as he ascended each granite-laden step, spilling forth the most incredible volumes of forgotten history. He could feel the pulse of each living being that had ever traversed this archaic staircase; pounding beneath his own flesh and coursing through his veins as if they all had been him. He saw within himself the iceberg of their recollections, dragging across his neural pathways with all the rusted hesitation of an ancient radio transmission received aeons beyond its origin.
And in a second, all was clear. He had jumped from one end of the universe unto the other - and was back in place before the next beat of his heart.
Winded by the experience, he glanced up into the darkness that hung like a thickened curtain overhead. It was a frighteningly solid sort of darkness that instantly reminded him of Death's constant presence behind him; yet, somehow Bronks did not feel any fear toward it. Instead, he peered harder, far between the countless grains of dust and matter that composed the overwhelming cloud of darkness overhead until he spotted them.
Virtually impossible to see without the right eyes, their figures were all but invisible in the alcoves high above. Yet, Bronks could see them perfectly - coming in to focus with each passing moment as if that very darkness were receding from their figures in some dignified, parting gesture. Silent and still, their hulking figures stared down at him, eternally locked in stonelike posture. They spoke nor moved not, and could have passed as lifeless sculpture to even the most discriminating of vision.
Though they appeared fearsome and ominous, something in their eyes suggested something far different. They were pure, transcendental; untouched by even the blackness of all the ancient air that surrounded them. They radiated an energy all their own that seemed to refute the very stagnance of their surroundings. Their eyes glimmered with a sentient mercy - truly, these magnificent creatures were defenders of the righteous.
- Excerpt from the journal entries of Machination.