- Right before the tragedy -
Deep within the subterranean belly of the wooden house, the cultist – whose features were obscured by a deep, tattered hood – was scribbling feverishly on a clipboard.
His eyes darted from the piece of paper, then up the centerpiece of the room: a vertical glass cylinder filled with bubbling, bioluminescent fluid. Inside the cylinder a body floated, tethered together by dozens of translucent tubes.
Austin's boots clicked on the stone stairs as he descended from the upper floor. "I've seen the villagers off," he announced, his voice echoing in the cramped space. "They're heading back to the village to await further instructions."
"Hm, yes. Good work, Brother," the cultist murmured without looking up. "My work requires order. Your assistance has been invaluable."
Austin leaned against a workbench, keenly fixing his gaze toward the body in the tube. "Uh-huh. No problem at all, 'Brother'."
