Chapter 30: “One Hell Of A Messed Up Scene”
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The colossal, heavy automaton, shaped like a spider, folded its long appendages into its metallic midsection. It moved swiftly and effortlessly down the straight, rigid road on wheels positioned along its sides. Atop its solid exoskeleton stood Inquisitor Vanna, her posture and demeanor merging seamlessly with the mechanical creature as if she were an integral part of its structure. The night breeze, carrying a subtle hint of sea salt, sharpened her already acute senses.
The disciples of the Black Sun posed a significant threat to contemporary society, yet they were not the only danger.
Malicious glances frequently emerged from subspace, always directed at the mortal plane, while reckless humans continually sought to imbibe themselves with these dread-filled powers. In this unholy union between ancient deities and mortals, remnants of perverse artifacts curtailed offspring, and lingering whispers of corruption lay dormant in various city-states, always ready to disrupt societal harmony.
Among these numerous threats, the disciples of the Black Sun were the most vigilant and troublesome for the protectors of Pland.
These individuals were not mere cultists; they were remnants of an ancient world long lost to time. Unlike typical, uninformed cults, these miscreants harbored a certain “belief.” This “belief,” however fanatical and distorted, had been preserved for millennia within the inner sanctum of their detestable sect.
This belief revolved around the “Era of Order,” a time that supposedly thrived under the benevolent light of an ancient sun. They had devised their unique system, complete with a “true solar calendar,” unrecognized and dismissed by current civilization. Firm in their conviction, they saw themselves as descendants of an ancient civilization, destined to bring about its revival.
As an inquisitor for the Storm Church, Vanna displayed little interest in these cultists’ perverse doctrines. However, she recognized that these distorted beliefs granted the Black Sun’s disciples a level of unity and tenacity far surpassing other heretical groups. This unity fortified them, enabling their stubborn survival and expansion in the dark corners of various city-states.
Thus, their re-emergence in Pland somewhat surprised Vanna.
Four years earlier, a severe blow had significantly weakened the Black Sun’s disciples in Pland. Investigative reports indicated that their principal members had likely moved to neighboring Lansa, Mok, or even the distant city-state of Cold Port. Those left behind in Pland were merely a few stubborn holdouts, susceptible to influence but lacking the credentials to join the more influential members in relocating.
These underlings had taken refuge in the city’s subterranean sewer system, their familiarity with this underworld and the corrupt blessings of the Black Sun helping them evade the city’s guardians. Over four years, their numbers had gradually dwindled, with their only remaining option being a desperate fight for survival.
However, today, after four long years, they had managed to rally their forces and even dared to perform sacrificial rites, potentially drawing attention to themselves. Who had instilled this newfound courage in them?
Was a significant event looming over the city-state? There must have been a compelling reason for these cultists to risk the attention of the authorities, even if it meant potentially extinguishing their last surviving sparks.
The mechanical spider buzzed and emitted a rhythmic hum as its steam core continued to operate. Amidst the faint scent of burning incense drifting from the steam vent, Vanna set aside her thoughts and looked up at the sky. Above, the “World’s Creation” shone brightly in the night sky, its fissuring pale light casting illumination over the diverse rooftops, chimneys, and towers of Pland.
Her team was navigating the outskirts of the industrial district, where colossal pipes that carried steam and hot fluids stretched across the sky between factories like giant veins etched in the air.
Suddenly, Vanna was swept back into a memory—the most vivid and terrifying night of her past. That midnight, filled with the smell of blood, her uncle had carried her on his back, fleeing a blazing inferno. The streets were crowded with the walking dead caught in a shared delusion, their figures wavering in the blood-soaked shadows. They had escaped through factory pipes filled with the sickening smells of blood and harsh chemical grease…
Suddenly, a vibration jolted the mechanical spider under her, snapping Vanna back to the present.
The smooth road ended, giving way to an abandoned, uneven, and cratered landscape on the city outskirts. The pair of mechanical spiders transitioned from gliding mode, extending their long limbs to swiftly navigate the rough terrain.
Soon, the team reached the entrance to a disused sewer.
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An additional team of eight members was already there, tasked with securing the area and blocking unauthorized access to the entrance.
Vanna exchanged formal salutes with her subordinates before following the team leader into the dark depths of the sewer.
After navigating through winding tunnels and grimy paths, Vanna finally arrived at the secret meeting place. Here, she found a gathering of fellow guardians and church priests engaged in purification rituals.
At the center of the meeting place stood an improvised altar, its timber platform showing signs of charring from a previous encounter with flames. Despite being partly consumed by fire, fragments of sacrilegious totems erected by the followers of the Black Sun still decorated the altar.
Surrounding the altar, scores of bound heretics crouched low to the ground. Most trembled in palpable fear, while a few silently moved their lips in silent, blasphemous prayers. But with their ritual disrupted and under the scrutinizing gaze of the Storm Goddess, their prayers were utterly impotent.
A short distance from the altar, the lifeless bodies of victims found in nearby caves and used as sacrifices were laid out on linen cloths adorned with cryptic runes. Morticians, hastily summoned to the scene, were meticulously examining each body’s condition.
Several church priests had circled the altar, each holding a copper chain with a censer at its end, emitting thick clouds of white smoke. When this smoke reached the ground near the altar, it ominously transformed into a dark shadow. Additional bursts of white smoke were used to combat this dark presence, gradually removing the remnants of the Black Sun.
“Inquisitor Vanna, please come this way. We found something unusual here,” a young guardian said, gesturing towards several bodies near the altar. “Be careful, the ground here isn’t clean.”
Vanna walked determinedly to the bodies, her expression turning to a frown as she observed one in particular.
It was a cultist wearing a golden mask, clearly the sun priest who had led the sacrificial ritual of this heretical assembly. A horrific cavity marked his chest.
“…What happened here?” Vanna asked, puzzled. “Did this fervent heretic end his own life at the ritual’s climax? I’ve never seen such a practice among the Black Sun’s followers.”
“He didn’t sacrifice himself,” the guardian quickly clarified, his expression showing his confusion. “According to the arrested cultists… their envoy was sacrificed by another being…”
“Sacrificed by another being?” Vanna raised an eyebrow in astonishment. “What kind of madness is this?”
“It does seem mad,” the guardian agreed, shrugging helplessly. “By the time we arrived, most of the cultists were already in a frenzied state.”
“A frenzied state?”
“Yes, their ritual went terribly wrong. Many were overcome by madness, attacking each other and seeing their fellows as monstrous entities. This chaos drove them from the site, drawing the attention of patrolling guardians and exposing their activities. When we arrived, only a few were coherent enough to be questioned. Those few insisted that the messenger was sacrificed.”
“Driven mad? Attacking each other? Seeing their companions as possessed monsters?” Vanna’s face set grimly. “Have you checked for contamination by the Black Sun?”
“We found no signs of external contamination. The madness seems self-induced, stemming from within their minds,” the guardian explained, pointing to a young woman in a black gown moving among the cultists. “Ms. Heidi is here now. If these cultists aren’t contaminated by the Black Sun, we might consider hypnosis as a treatment.”
Thanks for the chapter!
Nice one for removing that thing that takes about 1/3 of the screen, and most of all thx for the chappie.
ive wanted to take it off long ago, i just didnt know how until now