The air reeks of burning incense and sulfur as the seeker steps into the crumbled chapel. There, on a blackened altar, Mother of Ashes sits, cloaked in crimson and shadow. Her cracked porcelain face turns toward them, eyes glowing faintly like dying embers. She cradles an inverted chalice dripping blood, her voice a low, hypnotic murmur: “What will you surrender for the truth you seek?”
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