Now it is known more colloquially as the City of Corvus. A corvus is a large black bird that feeds primarily on carrion but are highly intelligent. It is rumored their numbers went up a hundred fold after feasting on the dead after the fall of Apotheosis.
Apotheosis rose literally from dust when its settling populous realized that the mud under the layer of dust could be dug up, dried, and would form stable blocks suitable for building. This gave the city of Apotheosis some of the first primitive structures and defensive compounds recorded in the history of the Avantsphere.
With their progress came power, and with power comes cruelty and greed. Fueled on construction, there were essentially two classes in the city, those who commanded construction and those who performed the task. As a divide between architect and worker grew wider, the workers made an attempt at revolt that was quickly subdued, with the offenders pushed into a pit and the remaining workers commanded to push the massive sandblocks atop their former comrades.
The desire to resist the power of the builders was quelled. As the constructs expanded, they moved into the sprawl, forcing the man-beasts into working, training the instinct driven to labor on threat of death. The high powered among them continued to wall themselves into greater structures and created a hierarchy of power as they instated lesser builders to repurpose the sprawl into mindless labor. If potential was seen in a man who gained his senses quicker than others, he could possibly be promoted to builder. He would then turn into the ruling master of those he had been working with only days before, swearing fealty to the high architects and cracking the backs of now lower beings.
This pattern of breaching the sprawl and forcing labor persisted for many, many cycles of the moons. In the end, their greed for expansion would come back to whiplash the city.
Sprawl was already on the tide of settling as the chaotic aftershock of the Great Whump subsided, and as areas beyond the builders came to their sense before the enslaver's arrival, they began concocting primitive bands to fight back against being forced in camps. Words were exchanged in secret between those already working, and slowly an uprising was formed.
What pushed the sprawl got a snap back with twice the force, as fighters emerged with secret tools crafted from the clay.
The united drive to force out their overlords proved successful, and within a few moons the heads, hands, and feet of the high architects were thrown in a pit and crushed with sandstones, while there bodies (and their eyes) were eaten by the victors.
Some kennels of brigands claim they can trace their roots back to this original conflict that split the wastes.
It was not long after the tide-turning victory, however, when squabbles over what should be done from that point forward began to break the once united groups. A moon later, the fighting resumed again, this time among themselves for dominance.
By the time only a single victorious party was left, they were already exhausted and subsisting on eating the bodies of their enemies. The fallen became corrupted with black and green mold of the skin, and it made the victorious sick until they too succumb to death.
It was then that the corvi, swarming flocks of corvus descended on the city and pick every bone clean from Apotheosis's fallen population. Relating back to this tale, it is widely viewed this feeding frenzy and subsequent population boom is the reason for the corvi's mass numbers in the Avantasphere.
Anyone going to the city now would still find bones of those who died there. The ground is inhospitable and very little will grow in the thick clay. For this reason, Apotheosis is considered cursed and rarely visited.