Lux Locus: Fractured Family
In the red tides

One of the 'lower' town's entrances was situated in the middle of the city and was very much accessible to every citizen, but no one dared enter. The frog's mouth darkened as one went deeper into its ever widening gullet and entered the corridor of its esophagus, but it revealed a complex system of wide, artificial caves with lights flickering in the walls and on the ceiling. Various statues and effigies of how the artists' perceived the form of Mana Magis lined the wall closest to said ceiling while others representing different, recognized gods were placed into the rocky walls.

Zenith was impressed by what he was seeing through the metal corridor. He was several hundred meters in the air, and the cave he could see was like a whole other city. He didn't come to Diyam very often. In fact, the last time he had been on this planet was about sixty-seven Earth years ago. How time flied when one was practically immortal.

"What are those floating platforms connected to the walls?" Zenith wondered aloud.

"They're food and entertainment platforms," the guide responded. "The hospitals and treatment plants are built into the walls themselves." The man crossed his arms. "I don't agree with this detour to the temple."

"While I agree that the 'disappearances' are concerning," Zenith began. "I have a feeling this will lead us to him, provided we aren't killed in the process," he sighed.

"If you say so, sir."

There were many homeless in the long, entrance corridor, and a small group of would-be thugs attempted to mug the prosecutor's group until they witnessed the members and backed away in fear, leaving Zenith and his escorts to take a large elevator to the lower floors.

"She's supposed to live on the one hundred and seventy-seventh floor down, yes?" Zenith asked.

"Yes, sir," the guide responded.

The group found themselves plunging down at extreme speeds, the only force keeping them in place and preventing the full force of gravity from disturbing them being a coat of mana coming from the metal floor of the elevator itself. Their speed of descent was such that the whole contraption seemed surrounded in a vertical tunnel of light. With a loud clunk and the doors sliding upwards into the concrete wall, all but Zenith stumbled over and fell flat to their knees, groaning in pain and sickness.

Zenith walked out and looked over his shoulder. "What are you all doing?" he asked.

"Just..." a guard started.

"Let us recover," her companion finished.

"Don't take too long. I have very little patience for waiting when it comes to this kind of situation."

Zenith and his cohort walked around the many platforms covered with make-shift buildings comprised of welded sheets of metal and various, painted images on their walls. The drawings were quite simply, and many were poorly done, but, at least they were trying to imitate what they'd seen above. Regardless, these giant shacks of many floors and shapes served as housing for the 'less prominent' of the society on the planet but still capable of affording proper housing. They also served somewhat well as a safe haven the more religious zealots preferring the calm and perceived 'safety' of a cave, although they preferred the cave walls themselves.

The prosecutor asked the less terrified populace of the giant platforms about the alleged worshiper of Blumarak and directed him further down a path hugging the stone to a moderate opening where a few doors and alternate pathways lay. Going down the first one on the right led to a shoddy looking prominence in the wall where some rather distasteful 'tribal' effigies lay, such as totems covered in poorly crafted levels with bizarre, incoherent figures on them. Above the door was an arc that Zenith became suspicious of.

"That looks like crystallized blood," Zenith commented.

The regimentaries looked at each other but remained silent.

"Are you sure?" the guide asked. He checked the sign more prominently then shrugged. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"That's normal," Zenith replied as he took out his pistol. "This one is still a weakling, so she does her best to hide her association, but she still needs to display something belonging to her god."

"Isn't that...counter-productive?" the guide asked. "Wouldn't she just hide that sort of thing?"

"Blumarak isn't the kind to hide. He IS the kind to just sit back if he's sated, but," Zenith gestured his guards to surround the building's entrance. "if you look more closely, you'll see that the edges were sawn off and whole sign was sanded down to resemble a 'unique' design to attract attention, now get with the rest and be quiet," he growled after gesturing the direction with his head.

The prosecutor opened the door carefully and took calm steps into the dark room upon the gradually lowering ramp. Before him were various red crystals emitting a pale light from the walls they were embedded within, and various statues of bone depicting mighty warriors clad in thick armor as well as a giant, bulky, winged demonic aberration.

The floor was lined with a silk tapestry, perhaps confused for a rug of similar appearance and design. Everything narrowed towards the end of the room where a small shrine rested. Candles made the red marrow of bones slowly melted from the heat of a candle light floating above them. The fires illuminated a small stone podium carved out of the wall where various bones resided in front of a painted symbol representing a pick in front of a circle blown outwards from the top.

"A strange shape, for sure," the guide commented.

"Hmph. This place reeks of blood, metal, and incense," Zenith growled. "Wait," he said. "I hear something. Hide next to those stone walls bordering the entrance path. It should be dark enough there." He adjusted his coat and took a deep breath. "I will 'welcome' this person."

A door to the left, nigh impossible to see due to the darkness, opened, and out came a smiling woman of a tall stature. Her her hair was matted with dried, red clay, and she wore only a straw dress around her hips, preferring to cover the rest of her body with the same, cracked clay and covering her collar bone with white paint. She calmly walked towards the shrine with a ceramic bowl held in both hands, whereupon she knelt and poured the contents of her bowl onto the bones.

"I will be with yoummmm quickly." She spoke in a raspy, gargled tone. "So-mmmmmmm. Are you here to learnmmmmmm of a deitymmmmmm that can free your soulmmmm from the torment you live throughmmmm?"

She turned around, a smile on her face and eyes closed, but spared no time jumping back after seeing the prosecutor.

The woman shielded her face with an arm and looked at the one in front of her with a face twisted into fear. "Wh-what do you wantmmmmm?"

Zenith chuckled. "That's an interesting speech impediment you have there," he commented. He slowly walked past the strange woman and calmly picked up the bones covered in fresh blood to further inspect it. The prosecutor took a brief moment of time to look over his shoulder. "You do know that this is a ritual dedicated to Blumarak, yes?" he queried.

The woman gulped loudly in response and backed slightly towards the shrine. "I don'tmmmmmm know what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy," Zenith accused. "By the right of the Magus Imperator and my position as Firen Prosecutor, I find you guilty of consorting with a malicious deity. You are further accused by this being a god of 'influence' that has been banned in the whole of the Terran Expanse." He pointed his pistol at the woman's forehead. "The sentence is death," Zenith finished bluntly.

The woman yelled out in pain then swung her hand at the prosecutor, making him flinch when a screen of blood almost splattered against his face. He groaned in annoyance and started firing at the traitor who fled back through the same door.

The prosecutor wiped the blood off of his coat in disgust. "Let's go!" Zenith ordered his escort.

"I'm just a guide! I can't follow after a worshipper of Blumarak!"

Zenith took nary a few microseconds to come to a conclusion. "Be that as it may, you should still follow us."

"Why?!"

"Because I'm fairly certain she isn't alone, and if you try to leave through the door, more followers of the god of marrow might be waiting for you, ready to spill your blood and carve out your bones to feed their god."

The guide shivered at the thought and gave in to his fears. "Ugh. Fine."

To the guide's horror, Zenith and the regimentaries had already left, leaving him in the dark chamber with all the offerings to a blood god. He wasted no time catching up to the prosecutor.

The next room was completely blocked from outside view and was only illuminated by one white crystal in the ceiling, but it was sufficient. Dozens of corpses were stocked in that room, be they in cages on the floor or hanging from the ceiling, all kept fresh from decay with magic from blood demons. The stench was unbearable to the normal humans, but Zenith paid it no heed.

"You think a few corpses are going to deter me?" Zenith taunted. "I've had to deal with worse when I was little."

"Thenmmmmmm, you canMMMMMMMMMM--"

"You're getting overexcited," Zenith laughed at the disembodied voice. "Your impediment is becoming more prominent."

The woman yelled angrily and Zenith could hear someone punching a hard object. Using caution, he gestured his bodyguards to form a perimeter around him. The guide scampered up between them just to jolt his head everywhere he thought he saw movement.

"What is it, sir?" one of the regimentaries asked.

"I'm fairly certain it's a demon of Blumarak."

"It...it's not...him, is it?" the guide asked.

"She doesn't nearly have enough power to do more than summon a lesser demon of blood, let alone one of bone," Zenith answered. "Still..."

Hissing resonated in the air, a hissing of evaporation from excessive heat. No one moved from their position, even through fear, and all of them pointed at the ceiling when a cage fell down, splattering its mushy contents everywhere.

"Oh, tsk tsk tsk. Such a shame, but blood is blood," a resonating voice commented.

"What are you?" Zenith asked.

A figure landed in front of them, revealing itself to be twice the size of a normal human and made entirely out of semi-solid blood. It had no legs, preferring to slide around on a pool of ever flowing blood. Four arms ending in three, sharpened talons of coagulated blood threatened the humans there. Its torso was, like the fingers, covered by a thick plating of coagulated blood sporting a brighter shade of red than the rest of the entity's body. Its mouth, curving into a twisted effigy of a smile, was slightly elongated like a dog's, and its upper and lower lips imitated the appearance of sharp fangs. As for its eyes, they were a solid red with pupils that had the appearance of black hourglasses.

"Don't worry, guards. Its body might look big, but it's just pumping up blood to the upper torso to inflate itself."

"Like a puffer fish," a regimentary chuckled.

"Foolish mortals. When you know you're going to die," it pointed at the group. "you make comparative humor thinking you'll live, but you aren't the only ones I've met who did this. Just for that, Ill make sure to make your deaths slow and agonizing, just so we can move things along here."

"Move what along?" Zenith asked.

The demon laughed at the question. "Your fellows will know soon enough."

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