The city was deathly quiet, time appeared to be at a standstill as a lone figure walked through the blood-soaked streets.
Stepping around the rubble, the figure continued its solemn parade, before finally coming to a halt in front of a disfigured body.
They knelt down, seemingly dirtying their robes as they paid their respects to the newly deceased. After a few minutes they stood again and continued their walk, before stopping by the next body and doing it all again.
As they walked from body to body they started to mutter.
"This world has fallen to ruin and must be rebuilt again."
"Humanity's Greed has overtaken them and they have lost their sense of patience."
"I'll give them a second chance. If they can reclaim their virtues, then they may rise again, else they fall into the sins of their past."
Once the figure reached the centre of the city, they stopped. 12 bodies lay strewn about, their appearance almost so disfigured that you couldn't even tell who they were. Despite their hatred for each other and their difference, in the state of death they all looked the same.
The figure leaned down to the blood soaked ground, however, instead of mourning for the deceased they picked up a sword off the ground, still dripping with the blood of the newly deceased. The figure raised it high above their head before bringing it down upon their pale wrist.
Blood dripped down as the figure began to move again. However, this time they did not move towards the next body, instead they began to move in a kind of dance, blood dripping down wherever they walked, until an intricate pattern was laid out on the floor.
Back and forth the blood fell, circles, lines, intricate details, not even the smallest mark was forgotten or unintended.
The figure then turned to the bodies. The twelve were gathered out of thousands and placed at specific points in a pattern made of blood. The blood of the bodies began to mix with the carefully laid out design, washing away the details into the sea of blood. As the figure collected the bodies they began to chant.
As they walked and sang, voice after voice joined in the choir, each voice more ethereal and otherworldly than the last. Soon the city was filled with the holy melody, it sounded as if the souls of the dead were chanting alongside the figure.
As the figure continued to move, their movements became less dignified and more sluggish. Their skin quickly lost what little colour it had and took on an even more pale sheen. Despite the rapid loss of blood and their death quickly approaching the figure continued, their voice didn't falter and they still moved with purpose.
With all bodies in place, the figure returned to the centre of the formation, continuing to chant. As soon as the figure took place in the centre, a haunting glow emanated from the floor. Blood continued to pool at their feet, slowly covering the markings and moving towards the bodies, joining with the blood seeping out from the corpses.
The light followed the blood, eventually bathing the bodies in a wash of light. Despite the blood covering it the glow followed the pattern previously staining the ground. It spread until the whole ground was steeped in blood and the design was shedding its holy light into the surrounding air.
Finally, as the glow subsided and the chanting ceased, a loud thump was heard as the figure hit the floor, having succumbed to their wounds and finally passing on, the ritual complete.
A desolate silence returned to the city as it began to rain, the soft patter of water washing away any trace of what had just occurred.
However, not long after the rain had washed away the blood, the sound of footsteps resonated throughout the area, boots splashing through the water eventually came to a stop at the edge of the now faded formation.
As they spoke, their voice filled the silence and echoed around, yet were not intended for anyone to hear.
"So this is how it ends." Their voice is firm yet wavering, as the person wears a cold mask over their emotions. Their cold eyes drag over the bodies lying in the formation before finally landing on the figure in the middle. Despite lying in a pool of blood their clothes remained pristine and white.
"I'm afraid you are not allowed to rest yet, my dear friends." They looked over the faded formation before turning around, gesturing to the shadows behind them.
"This war is far from over, we must begin preparing. Who knows how long we must wait." They started moving away, the shadows moving with them.
"I vow that this time I will protect those I failed to before, and I will win this war for them." As they grew further away a figure emerged from the shadows chasing after them.
"Humanity will face the consequences of their actions."
"Let the sin I bear forever remind them of their crimes, so that they will never forget what they did."
As the last sounds of footsteps faded away the ruined city fell into peace, left to silently mourn the loss of thousands that took place a mere few hours earlier.
However a change is coming soon to this small city.
A change in the shape of a small pebble, nested in the hands of one body among a sea of many others and a ritual hidden under a sea of blood and washed away by the tears of a grieving world.