Everyone descended the ample and worn down decaying stairs, feeling observed and about to get attacked at any moment from the entrails of the engulfing shadows. How old were those ruins? Hundreds, if not probably thousands of years. They could even have been there ever since the planet formed, considering that they held an artifact or space capable of bend reality itself and the mysterious Supernatural Energy.
Vanilla kept her eyes open and her weapons pointed ahead. Various kinds of monsters were the ones that liked to lure their prey into a trap, and she somehow felt that was the situation right where they were.
The vault above them looked like a series of continuous tinier vaults made of tiny arches that had erased their details with time. The mumbles and stepping off the cultists ahead echoed, and Vanilla spoke to the Patriarch, walking by her side. "So, why don't you tell me about the Redistribution of Souls? What makes you keep it hidden from me?"
