>>5557666>>5557933>>5558037>>5558334>>5558355>>5557705>>5557880>>5558042>>5558266>>5557789>>5558057>The King Beneath the Sands...RisesThe red sands of Mars are muddied. Not with precious water, or the runoff of some ancient tower, but with the blood of people. Your people. Your Tribe.
That's all you can think about, the way the light off Phobos seemed to twinkle like rubies, like stars off the blood-stained sand. Even as your mother pulls you along, running, begging you not to look back, you cannot help but stare at it.
Old Brum, the Warden, Domma bleeding over the wares he spent so much time polishing, your dear friend Keffa missing half her hea-
The burning taste of bile spills out of your mouth, horror forced at bay by sheer disgust, giving you just enough focus to run after your mother through the caves. This place has been your home, your people's home, for hundreds of years. Maybe thousands. Your ancestors walked these steps to the tomb, and left offerings. And now you, very likely the last of your people, are being led by your mother up to the last refuge you can hope for. A place of legends, and power...power enough to, hopefully, protect you as it did your people before.
Down through the sand-scoured halls your mother brings you, into the chamber...and the massive statues within. Quickly she leads you, up the stairs to the altar, or sarcophagus maybe, that holds the Hero of your people. Inaros his name is, from the stories your mother told you.
She all but forces you down to your knees alongside her, hands clasped in desperate prayer, words so ancient you can't understand them flowing like rain from her lips. A prayer to the Hero, for protection and salvation. A plea to the Ancient King.
Time passes. The distant gunshots go silent. The sounds of marching grow closer.
Inaros does not waken.
You don't understand, but you trust your mother. Surely her stories were true, the tomb is here! The hero is here! Any moment, he will rise up and do away with these invaders! Save everyone who can be saved! Surely he wi-
<span class="mu-s">*BANG*</span>
Your mother lets out a cry as she flies forwards, a hole so big through her chest you can see the other side, outlined in dripping gore. Blood paints the altar before you, spreading down the sides of the ornate sandstone, while you can do nothing but look on in...confusion.
Why didn't he wake up?
As your shock turns to horror, your faith turns to fear, and a deep loathing starts spreading through you, you hear your mothers final words.
<span class="mu-i">"Please, great king...I offer my life, but please...</span>
