"Received, prepare for the second round, ensure no areas are missed."
In the sacrificial site, Paloma's appearance was unrecognizable, his face completely decayed, and one eye blinded. He lay on the ground, using his last strength to crawl towards the statue.
"Why..." he hoarsely whispered, leaving a blood smear with his decaying fingers on the statue's base, "We worship you... offer sacrifices to you... why..."
The statue remained silent, its stone eyes staring blankly into the distance.
When the fourth C-130 completed the final round of spraying, the sacrificial site was devoid of survivors. Corpses lay scattered across the ground, many unrecognizable. The orange-yellow liquid accumulated in the altar's grooves, mixing with the undried bloodstains to form a bizarre orange-red.
Paloma's corpse lay at the feet of the statue, one hand still clutching the statue's base, as if seeking answers even in death.
