The guard beside him made a fist and pressed it against her heart. The movement was quick, with respect to the person who appeared. The image flicked her gaze to the guard, registered the salute, and set the drowsiness aside like a cup. The softness left her face.
"Oh, seems like you met a familiar person," the commander said, tone gone level. "What's the situation?"
"Profane Ritual, torture and imprisonment," Ludwig said. He angled the crystal. The image drank the scene and reflected it, cages, slack faces, the tree's ulcerous swellings, the filth-slick stone. "Also, I have obtained evidence suggesting the involvement of demonic entities." He brought the vial up. The little thing tapped the projection and rang against it like glass against glass. "This is a parasitic creation. It harbors something that transforms whoever consumes it into half a demon, and this ritual tree here… looks like it creates fruits whose seed is the source of these pills."
