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A side story in Edison Corp. to explain the lead cultist's side of things and how they came to be.
Based on Kiaun 's Derideal lore.
Within the dark room of where lives are changed forever, the cultists finally depart from their ceremony. The only ones remaining were Stardust, the fox and the lead cultist. As Stardust pondered upon his fate, the fox and the lead cultist had time for themselves to talk. "So, whoever you are." The fox said to them. "What was it like for you? When you were put in the suit?" He added. The cultist looked back at him, figuring that it would be appropriate to tell his story. "Ah, yes, it was a long time ago, but I still remember it as if it were yesterday." They spoke. "Believe it or not, there are those of us who believe in the machine gods, awaiting our ascension to serve them." They added. The fox seemed weirded out that they were indeed fanatical before, but wanted to hear where the story would go. "Huh, so, tell me how that day went, the day of your 'ascension'?" The fox said. "Very well." Said the cultist.
The cultist recounted their time of living on Earth within a small town in a mountainous region of the world, isolated from other civilizations. Those who dared to intrude upon their land were harshly dealt with, regardless of allegiance other than their own. What they lacked in resources and technology, they made up for in skill and boldness. Many outsiders would come to try to bring them to heel, only to feel the harsh bite of their blades, to be naught more than lambs to the slaughter in the villager's eyes. The cultist can still recount the time a group of marauders dared to pillage their land for quick fortune, only for the marauders to see their own go down one by one. To witness in sheer horror as they were out-maneuvered and out-witted as their numbers dwindled till one was left to tell the tale.
The cultist then recounted that within its mountains and caverns was an intricate connection of multiple tunnels where the villagers got around. The tunnels would lead to larger caverns where small houses were cobbled together with whatever they could find and make due with. Within the large main tunnel, a rather large armored mech of human civilizations long past stood proudly within, revered as a holy relic of worship and reverence to the villagers. Incantations and scripture line the metal hull of the large machine, and meticulously cared for by its caretakers. The villagers would take some time out of their busy lives to pray or ask for guidance upon it. The cultist was no different from the rest of them, but this day was a holy day, when the angels of the machine gods would descend upon their world to accept their chosen villagers to participate in a pilgrimage towards ascension.
Upon this day, the cultist was chosen by the angles of the machine god, a calling the cultist would gladly accept, remembering the kindness the angles showed upon them in their youth, that they would hope to one day repay in servitude. Upon the ship awaiting outside, the villagers wave their chosen their farewells, with a mix of joy and tears. After everything was said and done, they boarded the ship to sail off into what they considered the unknown. The cultist remembered the several day's long trip a mix of calm and anticipation, not sure what awaits them. When the day came, and when their eyes looked upon the mining platform for the first time, their imaginations ran wild with what its purpose could be. As the ship docked the hanger bay, they were ordered to line up in single file and move in an orderly fashion. The chosen did so without hesitation, daring to not challenge who they felt were their superiors.
They were then led to the large round door within the platform, with several alters awaiting the newcomers. They were ordered to lay upon them as sacrifices to the great machine, and so they did. The cultist got to see the transformation of their brothers and sisters, till it was their turn to lay upon the altar. The cultist dared not question it as they gazed upon the ceiling, to feel the machine god's embrace upon them, starting with their feet and moving upwards. To them, it was a feeling of comfort and joy as they were soon enveloped within their god's blessing forevermore. To take the time to observe before their very eyes the transformation, and to witness the words of their god materialize before their eyes behind the visor. They would take these words to heart as gospel, and seek to fulfill their duty to please their god from that day on.
"Wow, ok, this has been eye opening for me." Said the fox. "So, you and your fellow villagers went along with this? For how long has this been going on?" He added. The cultist gave pause to that question before coming with an answer. "Well, for as long as I can recall, perhaps even before my time even. They have watched over our village from a distance for a long time, and little has changed since." The cultist said. "So, if you and your fellow cultist feel you've been blessed, what do you think about folks like us?" The fox questioned. The cultist looked at Stardust still coming to terms with his situation. "Well, to some, they don't know that they were given salvation, seemingly misguided even, but they are our brothers and sisters nevertheless." The cultist answered. "Such a transformation can be traumatizing to some, but they come to accept it at some point in time. We are servants of the great machine after all." They added, looking back at the fox. "Right, well, I guess that's enough talk for now, time to round up the other scavengers. No way we're going to catch them standing here, let's bring the new guy with us, shall we?" The fox said. If the cultist could make a face behind the metal visor, it would be a smile within.
Based on Kiaun 's Derideal lore.
Within the dark room of where lives are changed forever, the cultists finally depart from their ceremony. The only ones remaining were Stardust, the fox and the lead cultist. As Stardust pondered upon his fate, the fox and the lead cultist had time for themselves to talk. "So, whoever you are." The fox said to them. "What was it like for you? When you were put in the suit?" He added. The cultist looked back at him, figuring that it would be appropriate to tell his story. "Ah, yes, it was a long time ago, but I still remember it as if it were yesterday." They spoke. "Believe it or not, there are those of us who believe in the machine gods, awaiting our ascension to serve them." They added. The fox seemed weirded out that they were indeed fanatical before, but wanted to hear where the story would go. "Huh, so, tell me how that day went, the day of your 'ascension'?" The fox said. "Very well." Said the cultist.
The cultist recounted their time of living on Earth within a small town in a mountainous region of the world, isolated from other civilizations. Those who dared to intrude upon their land were harshly dealt with, regardless of allegiance other than their own. What they lacked in resources and technology, they made up for in skill and boldness. Many outsiders would come to try to bring them to heel, only to feel the harsh bite of their blades, to be naught more than lambs to the slaughter in the villager's eyes. The cultist can still recount the time a group of marauders dared to pillage their land for quick fortune, only for the marauders to see their own go down one by one. To witness in sheer horror as they were out-maneuvered and out-witted as their numbers dwindled till one was left to tell the tale.
The cultist then recounted that within its mountains and caverns was an intricate connection of multiple tunnels where the villagers got around. The tunnels would lead to larger caverns where small houses were cobbled together with whatever they could find and make due with. Within the large main tunnel, a rather large armored mech of human civilizations long past stood proudly within, revered as a holy relic of worship and reverence to the villagers. Incantations and scripture line the metal hull of the large machine, and meticulously cared for by its caretakers. The villagers would take some time out of their busy lives to pray or ask for guidance upon it. The cultist was no different from the rest of them, but this day was a holy day, when the angels of the machine gods would descend upon their world to accept their chosen villagers to participate in a pilgrimage towards ascension.
Upon this day, the cultist was chosen by the angles of the machine god, a calling the cultist would gladly accept, remembering the kindness the angles showed upon them in their youth, that they would hope to one day repay in servitude. Upon the ship awaiting outside, the villagers wave their chosen their farewells, with a mix of joy and tears. After everything was said and done, they boarded the ship to sail off into what they considered the unknown. The cultist remembered the several day's long trip a mix of calm and anticipation, not sure what awaits them. When the day came, and when their eyes looked upon the mining platform for the first time, their imaginations ran wild with what its purpose could be. As the ship docked the hanger bay, they were ordered to line up in single file and move in an orderly fashion. The chosen did so without hesitation, daring to not challenge who they felt were their superiors.
They were then led to the large round door within the platform, with several alters awaiting the newcomers. They were ordered to lay upon them as sacrifices to the great machine, and so they did. The cultist got to see the transformation of their brothers and sisters, till it was their turn to lay upon the altar. The cultist dared not question it as they gazed upon the ceiling, to feel the machine god's embrace upon them, starting with their feet and moving upwards. To them, it was a feeling of comfort and joy as they were soon enveloped within their god's blessing forevermore. To take the time to observe before their very eyes the transformation, and to witness the words of their god materialize before their eyes behind the visor. They would take these words to heart as gospel, and seek to fulfill their duty to please their god from that day on.
"Wow, ok, this has been eye opening for me." Said the fox. "So, you and your fellow villagers went along with this? For how long has this been going on?" He added. The cultist gave pause to that question before coming with an answer. "Well, for as long as I can recall, perhaps even before my time even. They have watched over our village from a distance for a long time, and little has changed since." The cultist said. "So, if you and your fellow cultist feel you've been blessed, what do you think about folks like us?" The fox questioned. The cultist looked at Stardust still coming to terms with his situation. "Well, to some, they don't know that they were given salvation, seemingly misguided even, but they are our brothers and sisters nevertheless." The cultist answered. "Such a transformation can be traumatizing to some, but they come to accept it at some point in time. We are servants of the great machine after all." They added, looking back at the fox. "Right, well, I guess that's enough talk for now, time to round up the other scavengers. No way we're going to catch them standing here, let's bring the new guy with us, shall we?" The fox said. If the cultist could make a face behind the metal visor, it would be a smile within.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 50 x 50px
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