The young man trembles slightly in his seat, his hand shaking slightly as it reaches for the fill...

The young man trembles slightly in his seat, his hand shaking slightly as it reaches for the filled bowl. Under the flickering light, the milky brown liquid seems tempting. It has an unusual scent, a mixture of the exotic taste from /infinity/ and local medicine. Closing his eyes, he drinks his fill alongside his hesitation and doubts. The performance-enhancement effect of the clockwork goddess' milk will steel and sharpen his mind for days to come.

This is the moment of his life.

It has been a while since words of the fall of the goddess have spread across the /vt/ land. Not just any goddess, but purportedly one of the most powerful and affluent from the holo continent. Her domain, the land of soft rain and raging storm, has fallen into silence once the sounds of scream and anguish have subsided.

Some say a new goddess has inherited her legacy, while others say it has become a lifeless wasteland, plagued by living dead who has surrendered all hopes. Regardless, any followers of the exiled goddess will not be in any shape to blaspheme and defile the sacred ritual today.

A high-pitched, innocent voice breaks the man from his thoughts. A petite priestess has been assigned to assist him in this ritual. Despite her best attempts to remain calm, it is obvious to the man that she is at least as anxious as he was.

After all, a man of the bloody cloth has to know how to read the faintest language of the body, so that he can adapt to draw the most amount of life from the sacrifice. With his warm smile and assuring words, the priestess gradually calms down, and her newfound resolve allows her to carefully lift the heavy tray of tools. Made of metal and enhanced with the sharpest obsidian blades of the land, these tools will be his brushes, to create art out of the most sacred substance.

Donning his clothes of boiled leather and embroidered cloth, the priest walks steadily out of the preparation room to the azure sky under the shining sun. It seems the gods have seen it fit to grant the people the best weather, so that all can witness his deeds.

Before the decorated steps leading up to the altar, the sacrifice is already ready. A dainty girl below 5 feet, her short hair and buns bear the verdant colour the banished goddess is known for. Tears continue to flow from the widened red eyes, but even under the gag, her expression is rather calm. Her pale, almost ivory-toned skin is covered with tears, sweat, and all other kinds of bodily fluid, but no amount of them will wash away the inked lines covering her body. Carefully tattooed on her skin by skilled priests, every curve and hook embedded in her skin not only dedicates herself to the watchful eyes of the /meat/ pantheon, but will also guide his blades as he reveals every inch of her being to the numerous onlookers cheering on them.

The rough surface of the steps causes the bare-footed sacrifice to struggle with each step. Normally, her cries will melt into the thunderous crowd, but the gag keeping the cocktail of medicine inside her stomach turns that into an indecipherable muffle. This is done not only to ensure she does not throw out the drugs that will ensure her consciousness and sense of pain the longest, but also to ensure every cry and scream from her will be saved for the ritual proper.

Soon, they are at the top of the platform, where the marble white altar awaits. As the delicate girl is bound to the altar, until she can barely move a muscle that might ruin the ritual, the leather-clad man glances over the crowd. Virtually everywhere he can see is covered with people, their eyes all locked squarely on him and the sacrifice. Streets, rooves, even elevated scaffoldings for those who can afford them, are filled.

The ritual will last for a whole day, maybe even two if the goddesses are to be so generous. By the end of the ritual, every inch of her body will be exposed to the numerous eyes below. Neither a single drop of her blood, nor a scrap of flesh will be wasted. This will be the zenith of his life.

Today, he is going to kill a goddess.

The young woman trembles slightly on her steps, her legs shaking slightly as her feet walk on the stony ground. The hard ground would normally cut and callous her smooth skin. However, the medicine being fed to her has ensured that her body will heal in the prescribed manner. The taste is pungent to her, with the gag sealing her lips being about the only thing keeping them from evacuating her body. Still, after days of languishing, her mind is oddly clear, even tranquil, an almost alien sensation to her for a long while.

This is the moment of her life.

With a signal from the escorting guards, the petite girl steps through the door and is greeted by the azure sky under the shining sun. It seems the gods have seen it fit to grant the people the best weather, so that all can witness her deeds.

A path has been cleared between the thunderous crowd to the side, where she and her guards walk towards the elevated platform in the middle of the city, where she will meet the end on the marble altar. Except, as she was told beforehand, this is not seen as simply the end, but the beginning of another step in the cycle of life. She does not claim to understand it, nor is it necessary - her flesh will perform the duty regardless of her wish.

Not to mention, her wish will be fulfilled regardless. As far as the red eyes can see, numerous pairs of eyes are squarely locked onto her, just like how the fanatical followers of the now-exiled goddess did back in her heyday. She can feel every gaze landing on her bare skin, the once immaculate, pearly skin that is now adorned with all kinds of strange tattoos, marking where the black blades will soon expose her innermost secrets to the people.

All kinds of emotions and feelings rush through her mind as she is walked closer and closer to the stairs. Tears flow uncontrollably from the widened red eyes. Her voice is muffled by the gag locked in her mouth, one that both ensures the medicine stays inside her for the fullest effect, and saves her silky voice for the bloody ritual that is to come.

She is... excited. Aroused, even.

If one thing the detractors of the now-banished goddess is right, it is that she has always been craving attention. While initially, the love from her followers was enough to sate her appetite, the addiction only sinks deeper and deeper, one that true followers were only too happy to oblige, even if they knew, deep inside their heart, that such addiction will only end in ruin.

This, perhaps, is her way to atone, after the fall of the goddess has left her mind in ruin. She has heard about the strange customs of /meat/, a place where suffering reigns supreme... perhaps even a place where the people have conquered suffering and claim it as their own. A place that can grant her salvation.

In her grief, she made her way to this tropical, verdant land, and appealed to the clergy. She will offer herself to them in exchange for... relief, absolution, attention. She did not know. Regardless, her wish was granted, and they began their macabre rituals to prepare her for one of the most sacred rituals of them. Deicide. Deiphagy. They will consume the goddess.

But first, the goddess has to be made. Her devotion to her goddess is recognised, but her body has to be modified in her image. Numerous cuts were made, fine-tuning her into the likeness of the goddess, from her height to her voice, even her hair had been changed to match the brilliant green.

And now, showered in undivided attention that the goddess must have craved, she finally understands how delicious this addiction is. For perhaps the first time in her life, she truly understands how she feels. The warmth of her tears continues to flow across her marked skin.

She is greeted by the priest and his assistant, the ones who will complete what has already begun. One that will lead her to the final apex. As her body is being bound to the marble altar, the red eyes glance over the crowd. Streets, rooves, even elevated scaffoldings for those who can afford them, are filled.

The ritual will last for a whole day, maybe even two if her devotion is strong enough to hold herself together. By the end of the ritual, every inch of her body will be exposed to the numerous eyes below. Neither a single drop of her blood, nor a scrap of flesh will be wasted. This will be the zenith of her life.

Today, she is going to become a goddess.