Somewhere, deep within the bowels of the earth, a tape recorder springs to life.
As it begins to sound out its pre-recorded message, a voice echoes throughout the catacombs. The speaker is an elderly woman--her tone tempered by the fires of the kitchen, her voice worn and gravelly from decades of shouting and work. She speaks in a foreign language you do not know, and though your mind reasons you should not recognize the words, somehow--perhaps through a whim of the ritual--you can understand what she is saying.
My name is Zalsarona, daughter of Zaffria.
These are the final moments of my life as a creature of flesh and blood.
As my compatriots yet fumble impotently in their attempts to salvage our situation, I know the truth.
Our hope is dead. The covenant of our demise is sealed, signed in the blood of the man who could have saved us.
We will become the pretender god's banquet.
But I have not lived this long just to falter when victory is impossible.
When the light is gone, shattered by folly and wanton destruction, I will seize the shadows instead.
Discordant sounds interrupt the speaker. Something is being dragged, the low growl of machinery awakens nearby, and there is a second, male voice speaking. It is too distant to make out over the ambient noise.
You want to tie my hands? Do not worry, I have brought chains.
Here. Fasten these ends to the wall or the machines.
Make sure I cannot escape. And if mistake happens and I lose myself, run.
I was approached by Roland near the beginning of the night. Something about a plan to kill that chicken fry cook to protect Ace. That Roland, he always acts so jaded and like he is a career screw-up, but when it comes down to it he is just a big sweetheart. So I took some of the nails I brought with the woodworking supplies the other day, the ones I left in the general store, and turned them into a lure for the colonel. I also grabbed an umbrella. While doing so, I saw the man with a skull for a face through the window. He was doing things with ropes by the blue building.
I wanted to bring the nails to Mineral storage, like I told Roland, but when I got there, a big shield was in the way. So I took the long way around. When I got to the room finally, Roland and his crew were actually there, so I gave them the nails in person. I then went back outside, ran into Nico on the way through the dorm. She handed me a flyer.
Outside, I saw Evangeline, that backstabbing malcontent. An idea came to my mind. I raised the umbrella in the air, the metal tip beckoning the sky above. As I felt the surge of an imminent strike, I tossed it at the agent, causing lightning to crash down where she stood. Unfortunately her wickedness protected her and she jumped out of the way just in time, so I couldn't drown her in the river. Yet. A train whistle then sounded, as if to laugh at me.
I re-entered the building to go to the blacksmith. My goal was to make chains and shackles for the ritual. Roland is putting them onto me as I speak.
A metallic rattling sound can be heard in the background.
That Storm person was already there when I entered the room. We worked next to each other for a while, until he took his spikes and left. Some time passed then, and Nico passed through the room, grabbing a small travel anvil then disappearing into carpentry.
Eventually I finished shaping the metal and set it down to cool. I decided to go outside for a bit. Just as I passed by the door to the explosives storage, I heard a noise from above and seconds later an anvil came crashing down upon me. I narrowly dodged out of the way and saw Nico upstairs, looking disappointed that I'm not a pancake.
After that start, I peeked into the explosives storage, then spent some time at the graveyard, paying respects to my apprentice and the man who was to save us.
With my smithing work done, I went north towards the green building, choosing to wait by the bank door for Roland. Then suddenly the road collapsed, and I saw Hifumi come out from the green dorm. Roland then arrived and we went downstairs. That was a few minutes ago.
Roland, how much longer until preparation is done?
I will try to wrap this up then.
I have lead a long and tumultuous life. Met many people, made many friends and enemies.
But it is clear to me now: I will not be remembered for who I was. Only for what I will be.
Many humans believe to understand the depths of the abyssal. They label something "occultic" and then pretend to understand what it means, as if they had studied it for a thousand years. But I have seen the faces of devils, and one thing is clear: You could study them forever and yet would never be any closer to understanding their motives or machinations. Let alone make them serve you.
There are many "occultic" artifacts here, in storage or in the hands of the reckless. But they do not embody the darkness, they are merely "touched" by it.
To truly embody the powers of the demonic, you cannot lock them into a conduit to channel them "safely". If you wield a demon's power "safely", you aren't wielding anything at all. To truly embody these forces, you must invite them into your heart--fully, willingly, and without reservation.
I am old and withered. I have maybe a decade of life left in me. Let the devil have it.
There are more important things to do now.
This is my final will and testament.
![[Image: sacrifice.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/mgfQn6Qk/sacrifice.png)
With my final will, I curse Atua, I curse Evangeline, and I curse Yellowil.
Take my bones to lay these traitorous ones to rest.
Take my blood to fuel the fires of righteous wrath.
And take my soul as tribute for your benevolence.
Wipe the false glory of the pretender god from this unclean earth.
And let his vile light be swallowed by the abyss.
Long live the black sheep.