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Piece by bloody piece you tear him apart, till even faith cannot sustain him, and he fades away into the sea just the same has he first formed. Like a dying wail lost on the breeze, the last remnants of this false idol passing from the world...
<span class="mu-b">"You can't escape me that easily!"</span>
Like hells are you just letting him rest in peace! Though he wasn't much of a truly independent, sapient being to begin with rather than just the coalescence of the Gaelan faith, as a statement and for your own satisfaction you won't just let him fade to nothingness. Like clutching at a dissolving bath bomb, for lack of a better analogy, you struggle to grasp through the dissipating mix of faith and form. A non-divine being would have no chance of this, and as a demi-god it is still difficult for you. But eventually, in a metaphysical way between your body and your spirit, you can define and seize the very heart of this false Tanaloa; the spark of divinity buried within the "flesh" created of human worship. Such a small thing at the core, yet more precious, more brilliant than anything in existence... gleaming through your hands like a pearl in the deeps...
...you must have lost track of time, caught starting at the mote of divine power in your grasp. Long enough that the tide of blood has since washed away, swept off on the currents, and the vestiges of that false Tanaloa with them. Now all that remains is the true demigod, and a very distressed priestess wondering what to make of all that has happened.
>What do you do?
