He stretched out both arms and a dark aura slowly rose around him. It looked like a thick fog made of shadows. The priest spoke in a deep voice, each word filled with devotion and madness.
"Fear. Pain. Despair. All of it belongs to the Abyss. Their cries are the source of our offering."
His followers, robed figures of the Abyssal Cult, gathered behind him. They lowered their heads and placed their hands on the ground.
"My Lord, the souls are screaming," one of them whispered. His voice trembled. "The fear they left behind is strong. The city is soaked in it."
The Dark Priest nodded without emotion.
"Good. Absorb everything. The Abyss grows with every breath of their terror."
He turned towards the man sitting at the centre.
"Lord Apostle,please begin.
A strange ritual began.
The cultists took out dark crystal orbs and placed them on the ground. The crystals glowed faintly at first, then brighter, pulsing like a beating heart.
