The fire the Black Church had raised earlier had died down into a low and red bed of coals that emitted more heat than light. Around those embers, over twenty kneeling Followers formed a ring with their hoods bowed and their mouths whispering a catechism that was equal parts prayer and promise.
At the center, the High Priestess was on her knees. In front of her, a kneeling Follower with his forehead against the ground.
Behind her, three Followers lay unconscious. Their bodies had been linked to the Golems, and their souls were currently occupying the Golems' bodies. Those Followers would never wake up again. To take up a Golem's body is to forsake oneself. By being placed inside the Golems, they had accepted that their consciousness would be brought down to bare instincts. They were little more than animals now. And would forever, never be much more than animals.
