Devourer

Fayetta swept through the temple as her avid and devoted flock. She was a child of the Hive but a well-concealed one. She looked like a human, and the story was that she was an ascended human. She was a loyal follower who was granted the Great Beast’s blessing, someone who had risen above humanity's petty failings.

Fayetta is a High Mother of the Faith of Unity. She entered the temple with quiet grace. She wore flowing white robes adorned with golden embroidery, her auburn hair framed by a simple circlet of gold and silver. Her green eyes shone with warmth and wisdom, and her presence exuded calm authority. Just as her king designed her to be

The temple was grand yet serene, with tall marble columns and soft light streaming through stained glass windows. The air carried the faint scent of incense, and the sound of distant chanting lingered.

As she stepped inside, the congregation grew silent, their attention drawn to her. The congregation adored her with unwavering devotion. Many bowed their heads in reverence as she passed, while others clasped their hands over their hearts, a gesture of unity and respect within the faith. Their eyes followed her every move, filled with admiration and a deep sense of trust. To them, she was more than a leader; she was the embodiment of their beliefs, a living symbol of harmony and hope.

Whispers of gratitude and awe rippled softly through the crowd, recounting her acts of compassion and wisdom. Some reached out more tangibly as if to feel her presence, though none dared intrude on her path. Mothers held their children close, pointing to her as an example of grace and virtue. Elderly followers, seated near the temple’s edges, murmured prayers of blessing for her continued guidance.

Fayetta acknowledged their adoration with humility, her gaze meeting theirs with warmth and understanding. She moved among them like a calming tide, her presence inspiring peace and a renewed sense of unity among all gathered.

Unbeknownst to the adoring congregation, Fayetta was not human and never had been. She was not ascended, as the other leaders of the Faith of Unity had been; she was created exactly as she was, a perfect vessel designed to embody the ideals of the faith and the will of the Great Beast. While the other leaders of the faith had once been human before undergoing the dark transformation that bound them to the Beast's hive mind, Fayetta was different. She was a construct of pure intent, a flawless mask hiding the ancient, insidious power she served.

The ascension process, reserved for the highest ranks of the faith, was a cruel twisting of humanity. Those who underwent it were hollowed out, their autonomy erased, their minds bound to the hive mind of the Great Beast. They became tools of its will, reshaped to ensure unwavering loyalty and absolute control over the faith. But Fayetta was never human, never bound by the transformation, because she had been made by the Beast itself. Every detail of her, her beauty, her voice, her wisdom was calculated to inspire adoration and trust.

Her purpose was singular: to be the face of the faith, the beacon of grace and authority that the people revered. Unlike the ascended leaders, she did not bear the scars of a lost humanity. She did not struggle with memories or echoes of resistance. Her existence was seamless and pure, crafted entirely to fulfill the Great Beast’s purpose without hesitation or doubt.

The faithful, unaware of the Beast’s true nature, saw her as their savior, a symbol of the unity and harmony they believed in. They did not see the truth behind her perfect facade: that Fayetta was no more than a tool of control, a being forged to perpetuate their blissful ignorance. As she stood before them, offering blessings and words of inspiration, the congregation’s adoration was absolute. They saw in her the pinnacle of their faith, not realizing that her very existence was proof of their subjugation to the Beast’s grand design.

In truth she loved the deception, relishing every moment as she stood before the adoring congregation. To watch these fools worship her, to see them devour the lies she so gracefully wove, brought her a perverse satisfaction that she kept well hidden behind her radiant smile.

Her emerald eyes, so warm and kind in appearance, glimmered with a private amusement as she moved among the crowd. Every bow of reverence, every whispered prayer, every tear of devotion felt like a triumph to her. They believed her to be the embodiment of unity and grace, never suspecting that she viewed them as pawns, cogs in the grand machine of the Beast’s dominion.

When she spoke, her words were honeyed lies, carefully crafted to deepen their faith and bind them tighter to their servitude. She felt no guilt, no hesitation, only the thrill of watching them hang on her every word. To her, their adoration was a game, a show of her own mastery over them. Fayetta loved her role not just because it was her purpose, but because it gave her power a power she wielded with a subtle, cruel joy.

She knew the truth they would never see: that their faith was a cage, their unity a chain. And yet, they adored her for it, raising their voices in songs of praise and offering their labour and devotion willingly. It was almost too easy, and that ease made it all the sweeter.

Fayetta’s satisfaction wasn’t rebellion against the Great Beast; it was alignment. She loved her creator’s plan, reveled in its success, and took pride in her part as its most exquisite deception. To see the congregation kneeling before her, oblivious to the truth, was the ultimate gratification. In their worship, she saw not just her own triumph, but the triumph of the Beast she so gladly served.

Fayetta’s emerald eyes flickered with a knowing intensity as the man placed his frail son at her feet. The child’s condition was grave, the unmistakable signs of a demonic curse etched into his fragile body. Blackened veins pulsed with unnatural energy, and a faint, malevolent aura clung to him like a second skin. The congregation murmured nervously, their fear palpable, for they knew that such a curse was a death sentence for most. Human magic, even from the most skilled healers, would falter against such darkness.

But Fayetta was no ordinary healer, and her magic was no ordinary cure.

Kneeling beside the boy, she placed her hand lightly on his forehead, her expression serene. “Be calm,” she said softly, her voice a soothing melody. “The light of unity will cleanse this darkness.”

She closed her eyes, and a golden writhing light bloomed from her palm, spilling over the boy like liquid warmth. To the congregation, it was a miracle unfolding, a testament to her divine power. But in truth, this magic was far from benevolent. Unlike the healing spells of human priests, which sought to banish curses and restore balance, Fayetta’s magic was a ravenous force, a direct extension of the Great Beast’s hunger.

As the light enveloped the boy, the curse resisted, writhing and coiling like a living thing. But then the curse realised what her magic was and then the panic set in. Fayetta’s magic did not falter. It did not push the darkness away it consumed it. The golden light became an inferno, devouring the taint with a voracious hunger. The curse screamed a sound that only Fayetta could hear, as it was torn apart, its essence swallowed by the magic coursing through her.

She felt it the rush of power, the intoxicating sensation of the curse’s energy being absorbed and transformed. The Great Beast’s magic was not content to merely destroy; it feasted, converting the corruption into sustenance, fueling itself with the remnants of the darkness it devoured. Fayetta’s serene smile never wavered, but within, she reveled in the act.

So much power in such a small vessel, she mused as the last tendrils of the curse dissolved. It is fitting that even the darkness feeds the Beast’s design.

The boy’s breathing steadied, his colour returned, and his once-blackened veins faded to normalcy. His eyes fluttered open, bright and clear, and he stared up at Fayetta with a mix of awe and gratitude.

“The darkness has been purged,” Fayetta said gently, lifting her glowing hand from his forehead. “Unity’s light has triumphed.”

The father wept openly, falling to his knees. “Thank you, High Mother! You’ve saved him, saved us!”

The congregation erupted into murmurs of amazement and praise, their faith in Fayetta solidified by the miraculous display. Yet Fayetta’s thoughts, hidden behind her serene expression, told a different story.

Fools. They see only the light, never realizing its hunger. They believe I save them, yet they are mere pawns in a cycle of consumption. Even the darkness itself bends to the Beast’s will, its strength stolen to fuel its purpose.

Rising gracefully, Fayetta turned to the crowd. “Let this remind you that no darkness is beyond redemption through unity. Serve faithfully, and the light shall always protect.”

The congregation hung on her every word, their awe and devotion unmistakable. But Fayetta’s satisfaction went deeper. She had not just destroyed the curse; she had taken its essence, turning it into strength for the Beast and for herself. The act was not merely healing; it was domination, a reminder that even the foulest darkness could be made to serve the Beast’s insatiable hunger.

As she moved on, her blessings resumed, and the crowd pressed closer. Fayetta’s smile remained serene, but within, she savored the moment.

They worship me as their savior, yet they are blind to the truth. The light they revere is as hungry as the darkness they fear, and it feeds on them all the same.

The eastern refugees, once devout followers of the Angels in the Faith of the Sacred Order, arrived in the Empire broken, desperate, and disillusioned. For generations, they had prayed to the celestial warriors to protect their lands, trusting in the Angels’ divine strength to hold back the tide of darkness. But as the demonic incursions grew more insidious, the Angels, despite their might, were unable to shield the people from the creeping corruption. The demons, too cunning to engage in open battle, worked from the shadows, turning nobles, kings, and advisors to their designs. They sowed discord, manipulated alliances, and infiltrated the highest echelons of power, leaving the people defenseless.

The refugees carried with them tales of despair of battles fought valiantly but ultimately lost, of cities reduced to ruins, and of neighbors turned against one another by demonic influence. They fled westward in droves, abandoning their faith in the Sacred Order, which had failed to protect them, and seeking refuge in the prosperous lands of the Empire.

When they arrived, they were greeted by a stark contrast. The Empire, untouched by the chaos consuming the east, stood as a beacon of stability and prosperity. Fayetta, the radiant High Mother, performed miracles with ease: healing the sick, banishing curses, and ensuring the Empire’s bounty. To the refugees, this was salvation, proof of a faith that worked. They could not understand why the demons that had devastated their homelands did not follow them.

The answer lay in the Empire’s defenses, bolstered by the creations of the Great Beast. Among these were the creatures of the hive, specifically designed to sniff out demonic corruption. These beings, extensions of the Beast’s will, could detect the faintest trace of infernal influence, ensuring that no demon could infiltrate the Empire’s borders. The demons, knowing this, dared not challenge the Empire, for they understood they would be found and eradicated before they could spread their influence.

To the refugees, these creatures were divine guardians, evidence of the Faith of Unity’s power to protect its people. To the demons, they were a terrifying reminder of the Great Beast’s omnipresent control. Unable to follow the refugees, the demons remained confined to the east, where they continued their campaign of corruption and manipulation.

For the refugees, the Empire’s peace and prosperity were irresistible. Many abandoned their faith in the Angels, questioning why their protectors had failed to shield them, and embraced the Faith of Unity, which offered safety and hope. Fayetta welcomed them with open arms, her serene smile and miraculous displays easing their doubts. They praised her as their savior, never suspecting that the peace they found was born not of divine unity but of the Great Beast’s all-encompassing dominion.

Fayetta’s satisfaction grew with every refugee who knelt before her, their faith in the Angels shattered and replaced by devotion to the Beast’s design.

Let them leave their angels in the ruins of the east

Here, their faith feeds the Beast, and the demons they fear only strengthen its hold

The Great Beast’s dominion extended far beyond the mortal realm, its reach penetrating even the depths of hell itself. Within its hive in the infernal abyss, it forged alliances with select Daemon Princes, each chosen for their power and ambition. Beelzebub, Mistress of Gluttony; Satan, Lord of Wrath; and Asmodeus, Lord of Lust pledged their allegiance, drawn by promises of power and favorable positions in the new order the Beast envisioned for hell.

These alliances were critical to the Beast’s grand strategy, though few knew the full extent of the deception behind them. On the surface, it seemed the demons avoided the Empire out of fear of the hive creatures designed to sniff out and destroy any trace of infernal corruption. This narrative reassured the faithful and bolstered their trust in the Empire’s protection. Yet the truth was far more insidious: the demons and the Beast had struck a pact. Rather than risk destruction within the Empire’s borders, the demons funneled their chaos and corruption into the eastern lands, leaving the west untouched. In return, the Great Beast ensured their efforts undermined the Angels while funneling refugees and power into its growing dominion.

The Daemon Princes, motivated by ambition, saw in the Great Beast a path to stability and influence within the fractured hierarchy of hell.

The refugees, broken by the destruction in the east, abandoned their faith in the Angels, whose protection had faltered. They arrived in the Empire seeking salvation, unaware that the alliances forged in hell had orchestrated their plight. Fayetta welcomed them with open arms, her miracles and reassurances binding them to the Faith of Unity and deepening the Beast’s control.

The dissenting Princes who opposed the Beast worked in the shadows, seeking to sabotage its plans and rally resistance. But their efforts were fragmented, and they could not contend with the precision of the Beast’s designs. To Fayetta, their defiance was insignificant. Let them linger in the dark, she thought, her serene smile masking her amusement. Their resistance only delays the inevitable.

As Fayetta took the podium of the grand Temple, the room fell silent. Thousands of devoted followers filled the hall, their faces glowing with anticipation as the golden light of the stained glass illuminated the vast space. Her presence exuded authority and grace, her flowing robes shimmering with golden embroidery that seemed to capture the very essence of the Empire’s splendor. With a slight raise of her hands, she commanded the attention of all, her voice clear and resonant as she began.

“My friends,” she said warmly, her tone carrying both strength and compassion, “today, we stand as a testament to what unity can achieve. In a world fractured by chaos, we have built an Empire that thrives. While others struggle, we flourish. While lands beyond our borders crumble, our fields remain abundant, our people strong, and our future secure.”

She paused, letting her words sink into the hearts of her listeners. “The questions before our Empire are not problems of failure or degeneration, they are challenges born of progress. They are the responsibilities that come with achieving greatness and ascending to higher standards. These challenges demand thought, they demand action, and they demand unity. They call upon our sense of purpose and duty, and I know we are ready to meet them.”

Her emerald gaze swept over the congregation, lingering on their eager faces. “Ours is a land of abundance, blessed with glorious beauty and filled with millions of happy homes. Within our borders, the institutions of progress flourish, and the fruits of accomplishment are secure. No nation is more loved by its people, and no people are more capable of rising to the occasion. I have an abiding faith in your integrity, your courage, and your resolve. And so, my friends, I have no fear for our future, it is bright with hope and brimming with promise.”

The crowd erupted into applause, cheers rippling through the hall as Fayetta allowed herself a serene smile. She raised a hand gently, bringing the room back to silence as her voice grew more fervent.

“But let us not forget,” she said, her tone carrying the weight of her message, “that greatness is not merely a gift, it is both a duty and a purpose. It is not something we inherit passively, but something we must earn, something we must build and protect. To stand as an Empire unmatched in strength and unity is not just our privilege, it is our sacred responsibility.”

Her voice deepened, resonating with conviction. “Greatness demands effort, vigilance, and sacrifice. It calls upon each of us to play our part, no matter how great or small, in shaping a future worthy of our vision. It is not only an aspiration it is a way of life, a purpose that binds us together and drives us forward.”

She gestured toward the murals that adorned the temple walls, vivid depictions of harmony, prosperity, and triumph. “Look around you. See what we have built together. This is the legacy of those who came before us, men and women who understood that greatness requires not just ambition but commitment. They toiled, they sacrificed, and they dreamed, so that we might stand here today in a land of peace and promise.”

The congregation murmured in agreement, nodding as her words inspired a renewed sense of purpose.

“But,” Fayetta continued, her voice rising, “let us not grow complacent. Greatness is not a destination; it is a journey. It requires vigilance and determination. There are those beyond our borders who envy what we have built, who cling to fractured beliefs and fading traditions. They seek to divide us, to weaken the unity that is our greatest strength. We cannot let them succeed.”

Her gaze swept across the room, her words striking with precision. “The future we envision, the peace and prosperity we cherish will not come without effort. Together, we must rise to meet the challenges of tomorrow, as we have overcome the trials of today.”

Her voice soared with passion, ringing through the chamber with an energy that electrified the crowd.

“So I ask you, my friends, will you answer this call? Will you embrace this duty? Will you march forward, united in faith and vision, to secure the greatness that is both our destiny and our legacy?”

The congregation rose to their feet, cheers and applause echoing like thunder. Fayetta stood tall, her serene smile a mask of poise and determination, her emerald eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

They see in my words hope and purpose and through their belief, the Empire grows stronger

Together, we will not just meet the challenges ahead we will redefine what it means to be great

The crowd cheered and applauded, a usual outcome for her speeches.

“Glory to the Empire!” one man shouted.

“Glory to the Empress!” another woman shouted.

Glory to the Great Beast!