Beyond the realm of David’s consciousness, upon the altar of reality.

  “It is done! It is done!”

  Mrs. White suddenly erupted in an ecstatic, fervid cry. Beneath her star-etched mask, her expression alternated between unbridled joy and stark terror, revealing inscrutable emotions that shifted in a mesmerizing, heart-stirring cadence.

  “What is it, Mother? Has some unforeseen mishap occurred?” inquired Sophia with palpable anxiety.

  Never before had she seen her mother so unhinged, and she feared that the ritual might have failed—damaging David, the precious vessel chosen for this sacred rite.

  After all, a being blessed with innate divine inspiration was a rarity beyond measure, a singular marvel amid ten thousand.

  David and his sister Ava were of such monumental significance to the Church that no error could be permitted.

  “It is Him—the great One has bestowed His gaze upon us!” declared Mrs. White, raising her arms in exaltation.

  Him?!

  Sophia’s eyes widened in astonishment as she abruptly fell to her knees, gazing with devout reverence at the omens unfolding upon the dais—

  A gaping void, as dark as pitch, had torn open the fabric of space to reveal a profound, endless starry abyss, from which emerged tendril-like vines, reminiscent of living flora.

  The maidens stationed at the altar’s edge, upon witnessing this spectacle, too sank to their knees, their eyes alight with a mingling of deep veneration and fear.

  As specks of starlight cascaded down from above, enveloping David’s form, Mrs. White withdrew from the dais and lifted her gaze in respectful awe.

  Never had she beheld the “Mother Goddess” display such divine wonders at a ritual—surely, the extraordinary nature of the innately inspired had captured the Goddess’s attention.

  In a startling reversal, the Mother Goddess had supplanted her, electing to complete the rite herself!

  What marvels might arise from the union of the divine and the mortal?

  Mrs. White trembled with anticipation, her entire being alight with fervor.

  Yet at that very moment, the shimmering starlight began to wane, and the cosmic rift contracted at a pace discernible to the naked eye.

  Within the sacred confines of the altar, upon the dais, David—his eyes tightly closed—began to exude an aura of decay; his presence grew somber, his visage paling to the hue of delicate parchment.

  “What?” gasped Sophia, disbelief etched upon her features as she beheld the scene.

  “The ceremony… it has indeed failed.”

  For several heartbeats, Mrs. White stood stupefied. When at last she spoke in a dry, measured tone, her lips pressed together and a fine sheen of perfumed sweat clung to her face and neck.

  David was dead—bereft of all vitality.

  Moreover, his body visibly succumbed to a rapid, almost tangible decay: his skin withered and cracked, revealing fissures through which the dark, clay-like remnants of flesh and blood could be seen.

  Removing her subtly gilded, star-patterned mask, Mrs. White revealed her pallid, jade-like countenance, her voice raspy from the ritual’s exhaustive toll:

  “An innately inspired soul—a marvel scarcely found in ten thousand—is lost. What a tragedy.”

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  Sophia rose and approached, pleading, “Mother, what has transpired? Surely the success rate for the innately inspired should far exceed that of ordinary souls… And even if the rite should fail, resulting in immediate death, how could it manifest thus?”

  After a moment’s reflection, Mrs. White murmured, “Perhaps it is precisely the overwhelming divine inspiration, which, when met by the gaze of the Mother Goddess, becomes too intense to bear.

  And as for the transformation of the corpse, it must be the influence of the Mother Goddess’s power.”

  Though grief-stricken, Sophia had no recourse but to accept the grim reality, and she commanded the maidservants to tend to David’s remains.

  Thereafter, four maidens carried his lifeless body from the altar, through a narrow passage, and loaded it into the trunk of a carriage.

  They drove to the rear of the villa, into a lush expanse of woodland.

  Deep within this grove, a towering wall stood as a sentinel, marking the boundary of the “Safe Zone” and shielding it from the tainted “Contaminated Zone” and its eerie denizens.

  Here, the maidservants were to inter the body.

  Judging by their practiced movements, this was not their first such undertaking.

  Before long, after four sturdy maidens had excavated a deep pit and deposited the young man’s corpse within, the sun had sunk below the horizon and darkness began to claim the town.

  They hurried, for even with the wall’s protection, the Safe Zone’s fringes were not immune to sinister happenings.

  In the rhythmic clang of shovels, clods of rotten, darkened earth gradually covered the pale features—his eyes, face, chest, abdomen, and legs—until he was completely entombed, severed entirely from the world.

  Yet, in their haste to fill the grave, the maidservants overlooked a curious detail: the earth in contact with the corpse was gradually darkening to a deep, uncanny black. Before they could discern this anomaly, fresh layers of brownish-black soil concealed it.

  Soon, the pit was sealed, and the maidens departed with their tools in tow.

  It was foreseen that the young man’s body, now buried in this cursed ground, would eventually decay—his flesh consumed by vermin until naught remained but a bleached skeleton;

  and no tombstone would be erected to mark his resting place, depriving any kin of the solitary duty of mourning.

  Until his sister herself perished, no vestige of his existence would remain—a final erasure from memory.

  Death, it seems, is like a cool summer night.

  The woodland fell silent; the night beckoned the souls of the departed to slumber. A refreshing summer breeze swept by, dispelling the lingering heat, while leaves and grasses whispered in a somber requiem.

  In truth, David was not the sole soul interred here; all those lost by the White family slumbered in this forsaken ground.

  Perhaps due to an accumulation of lingering resentment and malevolent energy—or perhaps for reasons unknowable—mysterious and inexplicable changes began to unfold.

  First, the land sprouted brilliant red cluster amaryllis, burgeoning rapidly and blooming to nearly half a meter in height, clustering around the burial site.

  Next, aside from the amaryllis, all other nearby vegetation decayed swiftly, exuding a damp, sinister fluid that seeped into the soil.

  Lastly, centering on the spot where the young man’s body was laid to rest, the brownish-black earth within several meters transformed into a profound, unyielding black, its tendrils even extending beyond the silver wall…

  It exuded an aura of death and forbidding dread, and, perhaps under its influence, the silver wall began to fissure and splinter with a brittle, cracking sound, as if striving to breach the barrier between the Safe and Contaminated Zones.

  Beyond this wall, in the Contaminated Zone, upon the deep blackened soil, a triangular stone monument erupted from the ground.

  Its emergence further scarred the wall’s surface, drawing the wary eyes of unknown beings hidden within the dark forest depths.

  In that fateful moment, a soul who should not have clung to life—or rather, a spirit unwilling to succumb to death—awoke.