Intergalactic Summit

Following the trajectory of conversations with the charming and soft-spoken vermillion ingenue Cynthia Fabrique, transpiring as they did amid the artistry of a forgotten era in the great hall of a villa on an undisclosed world in the romantic hinterlands of Khanid space, I rearranged my affairs and returned to Araz. My original objective in that constellation, many moons ago, now, had been the discovery of a tomb - specifically the final resting place of that charismatic knight (now lost to history) who led the Takmahl away from Amarr sometime after the Reclaiming began in God's chosen Empire many thousands of years ago. Prior to an unfortunate navigation incident, I had established several colonies in Araz, and set them to work on the production of materials to test cybernetic and infomorphic advances on both a special breed of Athran karakul and my Sebiestor underwear models. These efforts proceeded swimmingly, and I am awash in bio-technical reports, nanites, mainframes, sheep, and lycanthropic Sebiestor boys in possession of formidable unnatural assets.

It was Cynthia, however, who turned me on to the suggestion that we might recreate, in the present day, some of the rituals observed by that vanished and wayward Order. Toward that end, the Bonfire quite naturally attracted my attention. For those unfamiliar with the edifice, it is a structure of thirteen loosely arranged slats which form a roughly circular aperture in the vastness of space. Upon seeing it for the first time, I was quite disappointed by its singular lack of, well... a fire. However, from the right angle, the home nebula of Amarr becomes the flame of a great torch - inspiring the heart and warming the soul:

Bonfire of the Vainglorious

Apart from gruesome rituals practiced by the more contemporary (if one might also say "demented") heirs of Amarr's lost tribe, what evocations might such an expressive cathedral have once witnessed? The structure rises, and so too must the intentions of its creators: elevation of the soul, from this world to the vastness above.

Now of course it occurred to me that I might roundup some large number of screaming miscreants, stuff them all into a box, and incinerate them with beams of focused, holy light. However, that did not strike me as a particularly worthy undertaking. Instead, I turned to my faithful and most successful lupus Sebiestor - a delightful if feisty lad... who is a good boy, sweetie, yes, you are, mummy's widdle cuddly wuddly... where was I? My most precious creation, riddled now with the cybernetics of renewal - and therefore capable of repeated sacrifice and report.

As fate would have it, gaining favor with the Ducia Foundry through industrial endeavors supplied me with a trickle of suitable raw materials: Blood Raiders initiated in their Faith and, albeit not surviving, laden with, well, blood. Mixing that ichor with inks I have been extracting from the cephalopods of Aphi's watery worlds, I created a mixture with which to paint the fine fleshy complexion of my Chosen Offering - finding inspiration for my designs in relics, fractal treatises, and texts recovered from the Museum Arcana of neighboring Zimse. I think it is Zimse. Is it Zimse, sweetie? Well, anyway, that place. Oiled and illustrated, my little muffin positioned himself with deft thrusting:

Mummy's Widdle Bloody Wuddy Sacrifice

After that short countdown, all of us aglow with anticipation, he rose in a flash of glorious particles towards the heavens - nothing left beneath wings of Anathema but twisted wreckage.

Until The Next Time

I must tell you, there is a sound in that place, the sighing of a thousand thousand souls; it forms a spiritual pressure, there in the mist and speaks of something beyond human experience. Like a puppy of boundless energy, my little werewolf is eager to once again fire himself in the hole, to feel the elation of transmutation and subsequent rebirth. Such enthusiasm is the providence of the young and supernatural. I shall try it myself when everything is just so.

However, floating there, it occurred to me that there are three prominent celestial points of reference.

One, the Mouth (we'll just call it the mouth, right sweeties?) of God:

"Mouth" of God

Two, the golden glorious godly nebula of nearby Amarr:

http://i.imgur.com/ZLGApPG.jpg

And three... that more distant, garish gaudy Gallente nebula:

http://i.imgur.com/pDSbfUO.jpg

In light of current events within the Federation, perhaps it is not unreasonable to conclude that some of the ancient Takmahl, forerunners of Amarr's exploration efforts, found their way to that more junior civilization.

And what horrors might they have taken with them, I wonder? I quiver!

I'm trying - trying my very hardest - to read this post. I really am.

But all I get from it is a headache.

It's for *SCIENCE*!

I'm sure it is, really, I am. I'm sure thanks to this experiment on your followers, and on the star system to which you sacrificed a human being has advanced the human knowledge on all that exists in, at least, a hundred years' worth.

Or maybe not. Maybe it was just a fruitless and empty human sacrifice. You walk a road that can lead you nowhere good: Sani Sabik, madness, or demented scientist like Kuvakei.