Steel and flame will tear through chaos at the most precise moment, reversing this mad feast.
This is not salvation, but a reckoning.
The power of the Evil God believers will be uprooted, their nests will collapse in explosions, and their flesh will turn to dust under the grinding of machinery.
And the survivors, those trembling and praying mortals, will witness firsthand how the creations of the Old Gods disintegrate in the roar of steam, those twisted and indescribable beings seem as fragile as dry leaves before cold steel.
Then, they will understand—the New God is their true savior.
-----------------
Under the blood moon, the ruins of the pantheon resemble the bones of a giant beast, broken colonnades casting twisted shadows.
The Priest of the Evil God stands at the center of the altar, skeletal arms raised high with an obsidian dagger, its blade coursing with dark red patterns like veins, each pulse accompanied by a teeth-grating metallic twist from afar.
