The room was massive. Higher ceilings than Summit’s Ridge. Longer tables. Fifteen, at least six already filled. Culled and Veilers alike sat side by side, eating from trays topped with actual food—meat, greens, cheese, fruit. My stomach gave a traitorous growl.
I took my place in the line, watching as trays were handed through a square cutout in the wall. When it was my turn, the warmth of the bread in my hands almost brought tears to my eyes.
I chose a half-filled table far from everyone else and ate slowly, savoring every bite.
The silence didn’t last long.
A deep voice boomed from the front of the room.
I looked up to the dais and found the speaker: a man in an amber tunic, hair the color of slate. He bore the Ravaryn Seal, pinned above his heart—two ravens perched upon a willow branch.
His smile was the same as Corsica’s, just stretched wider.
“Good evening and welcome to our facility,” he announced, voice rolling like thunder. “My name is Marcum Marwood, head chairperson of the Guild for Religious Conservation. I oversee the program here.”
He paused, sweeping the room with his gaze. It lingered on faces like a weight, searching for cracks.
“I know the journey here was difficult…”
I scoffed, loud enough to earn a few glances.
“…but I hope you find comfort in knowing that you are now safe. You will be taken care of here.”
Safe.
As if being dragged here against our will had been mercy.
“You are free to roam the facility as you please when your presence is not required for program activities.”
His tone was casual, almost warm—too warm.
And then, the illusion cracked.
“I’m sure many of you are wondering why you were chosen,” Marcum said.
His eyes glinted like glass as he grinned.
“You may be familiar with a certain passage fromThe Old Book… a passage some call ‘the prophecy.’”
I stopped chewing.
Every culled one within earshot went still.
“We believe this prophecy is not allegory, but instruction,” he continued, voice dropping lower. Softer. More dangerous. “A divine formula. And you—each of you—are a part of it.”
I gripped my tray harder.
“True ascension,” he said, his hands spreading like wings, “can only be achieved by a pure soul. But we believe purification is possible—of the body, the blood, and the spirit. Through science, discipline, and faith.”
The bread in my mouth turnedto ash.
Lies. It was all lies, and people were dead because of it.
“There are only two rules,” Marcum said, raising a single finger. “Rule one: participate in all mandatory project testing.”
He paused, letting the wordmandatorysink in
He lifted a second finger. “Two: Harm none, except in self-defense.”
