she stumbles in to the abandoned temple, her physical wounds nonexistent but her mental wounds apparent in real time. she clutches at her head as she staggers forward, burdened with the calls of the mortals she was meant to protect. what is blood, what is divinity, what is justice without purpose? what are any of these things without authority to lean on?
‘ father, ’ she calls out, collapsing at an altar - this is an altar to an old, dead god, for veneira finds the temples of the dead gods so that she may pump lifeblood into them, so that they may be resurrected in her name and her vainglory. ‘ father, i know you are listening this time, i - i need you, my soul is too big for this mortal body, and i - i am suffering, please... take me home, just for a moment, i... ’ her voice trails off. ‘ i am so cold. ’