"Please bring in the next offering."
A man spoke; he was clad in a dark blue robe. A young woman with a towel covering her head was placed forward.
≺ TRIAL OF GENESIS: THE FIRST ECHO ≻ Path: [ Body ] Deity Status: UNNAMED (Connecting...)
〔 RITUAL LOG 〕
Divinity Offering: ACCEPTED
Divine Heart: SYNCHRONIZING
Divinity Draw: STABLE
Mortal Pulse: 110 BPM (Rising)
Divine Feedback: [|||-------] 32%
Mental Integrity: SHIELDED
〔 TRIAL OBJECTIVE 〕 "The God was a sacrifice before He was a King." You have stepped into the memory of the Ritual Altars. To earn a fragment of the God's physical prowess, you must survive the same carving that birthed His legend.
Primary Task:Primary Task: Survive the Day of Death. Condition: Do not allow your Mortal Heart to stop before the Divine Heart takes the lead.
Reward for Survival: [ UNLOCKED ] Pathway 1: Body Permanent +50% Bone Density & Muscle Fiber Increase and Growth. [ ACTIVE ABILITY ]: Crimson Overdrive Increases the Divine Heart's rate, temporarily doubling physical speed at the cost of intense heat and muscular stress.
Staring at the system, my heart rate increased. "What's even going on?" I stared at my chained hands, then back at the system.
"Alright, so I just have to survive. That's easy, maybe." I tried to reassure myself, watching as the woman was brought to her knees, her hands and legs cuffed. As she struggled, a man spoke calmly: "37, place your hands on the tablet."
The lady cried, "Please, don't!"
The man shook his head. "Don't cry to me, for this was never your life." The man cried as he spoke; a manservant brought him a cloth to wipe his tears.
"This is a cult. I'm dead." I stared at the woman, quivering and shaking. "The great Ravana is the reason you may speak."
The man lifted an axe, bloody and rusty. "Rurmens, please steady her hands."
The man lifted her hands as two men steadied them. "The hand," the man spoke calmly, like a prayer. "A gift given by you, a way of showing protection."
The man lifted his axe; I stared, trembling. "I pray, Birac, you shelter us for many more years. I offer you the hand of a widow."
The man's arm swung down. A loud scream was held as the men in robes covered her mouth. "Birac Nipam" The man ended his prayer.
"Get the out of here," I thought nervously, looking around. I was shackled, but I had to. "That's all. In two days, we begin the festivities. Make sure enough Sacrifices are prepared." Speaking calmly, he waved.
My shoulder was nudged; I was next if he hadn't ended it. My eyes trembled. "Move, Yimpac!" A man spoke loudly as a whip struck my back. I coughed and stumbled. "I can't fall."
My legs stuttered as I followed the rest of the slaves. Once we were all unshackled, a man yelled—not directly at me, luckily, but to everyone: "Get to work!"
I grabbed a rake and followed the slaves outside to the field. I needed more info. "Fuck, but I can't get caught snooping around."
Raking the soil, it was hot outside. It wasn't much for smarts, but this was definitely the Middle East. Which part? I had no clue.
"Hey, Rao," a boy whispered next to me. "I heard you might be chosen as the next Vahana." I nodded, acting like I knew what he was talking about.
"Yeah, I heard, but I don't know much info."
The young boy smiled while working. "Well, let's hope you do. I'm sure you'll make a good Ruler, and maybe..."
The boy stopped speaking and raked the soil.
"Maybe what?" I stopped raking, listening to the boy. "Free us," the boy whispered nervously. Hitting my shoulder. "Keep working."
I nodded and licked my already drying lips.
"What is this? Who is the supervisor of the field?"
A man rushed towards me and grabbed my arm. "Who dares make the Mizam work? WHO?"
Everyone stopped moving. The man took the plow out of my hand. "I ASK: WHO?"
The man's face turned bright red. I looked around; I guess this Mizam position is important.
"I did, Mafos."
The man furrowed his brows as he checked my back; he saw a lash mark. "Off with his head!"
He yelled. As that command was given, the offender was grabbed. He made an attempt to escape. The man holding me reached out his hand as if signaling to crush him; he gripped his hand tighter.
"Please no, sir! I won't again!"
Blood spewed out of his mouth. The man clenched his hand tightly. The worker dropped to the floor, his eyes lifeless.
"Me."
I stared, horrified. That could've been me.
"My name is Mafos, young Mizam. Please allow me to free you."
The man took out the keys and freed me from my shackles. Fellow slaves looked but were whipped as they did. They were pushed to work. The boy and I held eye contact.
"Man, he's so gonna die, isn't he?" I whined internally. Well, whatever position I'm in, I'll get what I need out of those who are available to me.
"Follow me, Mizam." I followed closely.
"I'd like to apologize for that; you should've said something sooner."
We walked up a flight of marble stairs. The man cleared his throat and pointed his hand to the right. He spoke: "We have many things today; I'm sure this may be overwhelming."
I nodded. "Yes, it is. May I ask what exactly a Mizam is?"
I followed the man into a lavishly carpeted bedroom.
"A chosen successor of the deity Ravana. You'll be taught the rest soon enough." The man laid out clothes for me. "Please make yourself comfortable and wash up."
〔 RITUAL LOG 〕 Divinity Offering: ACCEPTED
Divine Heart: SYNCHRONIZING
Divinity Draw: STABLE
Mortal Pulse: 115 BPM (Rising)
Divine Feedback: [||||------] 42%
Mental Integrity: Stable
"So the further I go into this trial, the more of a toll my body takes." Staring at the system, I sighed. "I'm gonna survive. I have to."