“We know now that before the Mansus, there was not Nowhere for it remembers, for it was, and now I remember too. Unlike it, I was not, I merely am. But perhaps one day I will have been.”

Ioannes Kiasidaris, the Whispering Keeper

The Monument was, and it is. Almost certainly, it also will be. When the Other Place ended, it ended brutally, but it did not end finally, nor did it end completely. The Monument was a thousand things before it was a God-From-Stone. It was a palace, a library, it was just a slum and even a ruin back then, but before the Subsumption it was a building, a silent, unmoving construct. When the old world was overthrown, so was its stasis. It woke, bleary-eyed, but clear-minded, one of the first Gods from Stone. Memory is deep and memory gets everywhere, and it claims to remember the past, in fits and bursts, but more than that it seeks to restore the past. It is the god of the nostalgic and historians, those who seek to reclaim ancient truths, long-forgotten texts and stories, but more bitterly, more coldly, it is the god also of revanchists and reactionaries and fascists, those who seek to reclaim past empires, to reclaim old subjects. Its power manifests as an ironclad resolve and a memory that allows nothing to escape. Even its fully human followers are impossibly strong as they strain the human body to truly insane limits, unlocking reserves of strength many humans never will uncover. Time is also very little to it, this Hour that remembers so much more than its age, and the currents of the aeons twist in strange ways around it. Its followers have been known to appear in history far before they were known to have been introduced to the occult, or even born. Whispers echo of its final ambition, to twist the currents of time enough that it can see the past, or perhaps, just perhaps, save it…