Sterbelicht - One Sacrifice At A Time Against The Galaxy (40K)

And with one step, the last passenger of the boat disembarked from the ferry that had carried the pilgrims to the Isle of Avalon. The man...or woman? It was hard to tell by their androgynous features and slight build obscured by plain robes many other pilgrims also wore when they set out to visit the Island. Well, the last passenger stopped a few steps away from the ferry to be out of the way as they took a deep breath of the clean air.

Salt. Blooming Plants. Wet earth. A faint tickle of incense, a blend they had not yet smelled.

They breathed out.

A smile appeared on their face, and the pilgrim began to walk to the large building fashioned into a shrine to properly account for the pilgrims visiting and departing. Entry into the island proper was all but a matter of minutes. Dates were checked, stamps compared, and a hole was punched into their card before it was dispatched down a chute, and a token bearing a single wing was given to him that would allow him to partake in the offerings of the various automated vendors for food and drink for free, with a warning given that it would turn inert and useless in five days. Naturally, additional tokens, which only lasted a day, could be purchased at the various hotels scattered throughout the island.

No matter, the pilgrim continued onward and, nine minutes later, found themself off the beaten path that would have taken them to the Sealbearer.

They weren't off the path for anything meaningful; no, they simply had to laugh. Really, all of it, all the preparations and the waiting and scheming and lies...and here they were. Walking in through the front door. About to walk to the gates of the Sealbearer's Grave. And then...they laughed again, a grin splitting their face as they took another whiff of the air.


Burning, thrumming, deeply intertwined Faith of billions slowly collecting, glacially settling, all here, all in one spot.

They smiled again, the teeth of their human disguise only slightly sharper than usual, as the culmination of their plan began to unfold. In two years, the mass sacrifices of the billions of souls slaughtered in war, plague, dance, and scheme would have still bought the protections they wove around themselves now, but there would have been an ache in their every step. Five years after, that ache would have turned into a slight burning of their flesh, and in a century? This place may as well be the surface of a star to them.

Really, it was all too easy, and it would all pay off far more than that mimicry of a pretender-godling's servant could ever plan against!

With a hum in their throat and the smile of an average joyous human on their face, the pilgrim began to walk back to the path to the tomb...
Missing the cackling of a bird.
Choose One [1] of each Category:
(6-Hour Moratorium)
[] (Hero)
(The Yeeni Occultist / The Unaccompanied Child / The Nervous Mutant / The Kil'drabi Pilgrim)
[] (Occurrence)
(Distract / Mislead / Infuriate / Disclose)


AN: Welcome to Day 1 of HeroCooky Writes Shenanigans And Lore!