In the sun-bleached heart of the continent, the Slane Theocracy was a nation of absolute faith. Its capital, the holy city of Helion, was a breathtaking marvel of white marble and gold, built around the five great cathedrals dedicated to the Six Great Gods who had delivered humanity from the brink of extinction centuries ago.
Within the deepest, most sacred chamber of the central cathedral, the Pontifex Maximus, the supreme leader of the Theocracy, sat in silent communion. He was a man so old his age was a state secret, his body frail, but his eyes burned with the unwavering light of a billion prayers.
Before him knelt the leaders of the six Scriptures, the military arms of the Theocracy. Each Scripture had a specific purpose, from the espionage of the Clearwater Scripture to the brute force of the Holocaust Scripture. But the man kneeling at the very front was the most important of all: the Captain of the Black Scripture, a man known only by his title, a warrior who stood at the absolute pinnacle of what a human could achieve.
"The reports from the Baharuth summit are confirmed, Your Holiness," the Captain's voice was calm, but held an undercurrent of grave concern. "The being known as Kaelus is, without a doubt, a Player. His power appears to exceed even the legends of our own great founders."
The Pontifex Maximus did not open his eyes. "And his followers?" he whispered, his voice like rustling parchment.
"Monsters of mythic proportion, each one likely a threat on par with a scripture captain," the Captain reported. "And he has already subjugated the human kingdom of Elysia and the dwarven citadel of Khaz'Modan. He has also recruited the heretic, Veserion the Martial Lord, into his service."
A low murmur of shock went through the other scripture captains. The Theocracy had considered Veserion a major threat for years. That he had bent the knee to this new 'god' was a deeply troubling development.
"He builds his power base with frightening speed," the Pontifex mused. "He does not hide in the shadows. He acts with the confidence of a true god. This is a threat we cannot ignore."
He finally opened his eyes, and they were the eyes of a man who had stared into the abyss and had not blinked. "The edict is clear. Humanity is the chosen race of the Six. All other gods are false idols. All other races are to be subjugated or purged. This 'Kaelus', with his army of monsters and his blasphemous power, is the greatest threat to humanity's future since the reign of the Demon Gods."
"What are your orders, Your Holiness?" the Captain asked.
"We cannot allow him to consolidate his power," the Pontifex declared. "We must strike now, while he is still establishing his domain. We will remind the world of the Theocracy's might and the price of consorting with false gods."
He looked directly at the Captain of the Black Scripture. "You will take the full might of the Scripture. Your mission is not to engage Kaelus himself. That would be suicide. Your mission is to send a message. A brutal, undeniable message."
The Pontifex raised a trembling, age-spotted hand. "You will march on the vassal-state of Elysia. You will bypass their broken military and go straight for their capital, Lyria. You will burn the city to the ground. You will slaughter every man, woman, and child who has accepted this new 'Sovereign'. You will leave nothing but a field of salted earth and a pillar of smoke as a testament to the fate of those who turn from the true gods."
The order was chilling in its absolute, genocidal finality. There was no mercy in it. No consideration for the 'innocent'. They had sworn fealty to a false god. Therefore, they were all heretics. They all had to burn.
"And the human 'Queen', Lilliana?" the Captain asked, his voice steady. "If she is present?"
"She is the high priestess of this new heresy," the Pontifex hissed. "Her death should be a slow and painful one. A public example."
The Captain bowed his head. "It will be done, Your Holiness. But what of Kaelus himself? He will surely retaliate for such a direct attack on his... property."
"Let him," the Pontifex said, a fanatical gleam in his eyes. "That is the second part of the plan. Your attack on Lyria is merely the bait. You will draw him out. You will force him to come to you."
He made a gesture, and from the shadows of the chamber, a figure emerged. It was a woman with long, flowing silver hair and eyes that seemed to hold no emotion at all. She wore a simple white robe, but the power radiating from her was immense. She was one of the God-kin, a direct descendant of the original Players, a living vessel of divine power. She was known as Zesshi Zetsumei, the "Certain Death," the trump card of the Theocracy.
"While Kaelus is focused on your cleansing of Lyria," the Pontifex explained, "the Extra Seat of the Black Scripture," he nodded to Zesshi, "will be waiting. We have located what we believe to be his primary stronghold, a great tomb in the swamps east of Oakhaven."
The Captain's eyes widened. Their intelligence was better than he had thought.
"While the cat is away, the mouse will play," the Pontifex said with a thin, cruel smile. "Zesshi will lead a second, smaller strike force. She carries with her the World-Level Item, [Downfall of Castle and Country]. Her mission is not to fight his followers. It is to get within range of his fortress and activate the item. It will wipe his entire stronghold, and everyone in it, from the face of this reality."
It was a devastating, two-pronged strategy. A public, genocidal message to strike terror into the hearts of their enemies, and a simultaneous, secret decapitation strike aimed at Kaelus's home base and followers, using one of the most powerful weapons in existence.
"We will burn his new kingdom and salt the earth of his home," the Pontifex whispered, his voice filled with holy fervor. "When he returns from his futile attempt to save Lyria, he will find himself a king of nothing, a god with no worshippers and no throne. Then, and only then, will we face him directly."
The Captain of the Black Scripture stood, his face set like stone. "A brilliant and brutal plan, Your Holiness. The enemies of humanity will learn to fear the light."
He turned and strode from the chamber, his fellow scripture captains following him. The holy war had begun. The most powerful military force of mankind was now on the march, not to conquer, but to exterminate.
Zesshi Zetsumei, the "Certain Death," remained behind for a moment, a bored expression on her beautiful face. "So, I am to be used to destroy a fortress?" she asked, her voice flat. "What a waste. This new 'god'... is he strong? Stronger than the Captain?"
"He is a being beyond your comprehension," the Pontifex said.
A flicker of genuine, predatory interest appeared in Zesshi's eyes for the first time. "Stronger than me?"
"That remains to be seen," the Pontifex replied.
A slow, dangerous smile spread across Zesshi's face. "Good," she said. "It has been so very, very long since I have had a reason to be interested. I pray he survives the destruction of his home. I should very much like to meet him."
With that, she too vanished into the shadows, a living weapon of mass destruction sent to deliver a killing blow to the heart of the Dominion of Nexus. The Theocracy had made its move, and it was a move designed for absolute, unquestionable annihilation.