The entire world, in that instant, had been reduced to a single hue.
The sky became a sea of blood, and the earth was dyed crimson.
Cruel, icy light radiated from the illusory sun wheel, shrouding all directions.
After announcing the American Lineage's declaration to the entire domain, the aged man leaning on his iron staff turned back one last time and looked at the world engulfed in storm and turmoil.
Then he turned and climbed the steps.
His broad yet withered frame resembled a skeleton draped in aged skin. Whenever he gripped the iron staff in his hand, veins would bulge beneath his slackened flesh.
Bound by bone beads and agate ornaments, Tlaltecuhtli's mottled white hair rose from his shoulders and fluttered in the wind.
Step by step, he climbed the solid stairs to the summit of the Great Pyramid.
To the altar that awaited him.
There, face paint, colored oils, and bloody offerings waited in silence.
Within the solemn stillness of death, only the drums echoed, like a heart that had been dead for years beginning to pulse once more, awakened by the summons of the ritual.
A hungry, cruel presence rose from the darkness, becoming surging smoke and ever-changing gales that enveloped everything, waiting for the sacrifice that would surrender its life.
"So serious."
Tlaltecuhtli smiled faintly. He raised the iron staff in his hand, brought it down, and drove it into the stone and gold. Then he removed the black robe draped over his body and hung it upon the staff.
Like a gravestone left behind.
"Relax, Liz."
The naked old man lay upon the altar and smiled gently at his descendant. "Smile more. Only then will that face suit your beauty."
Liz remained silent, saying nothing.
Human emotion seemed to have vanished from those eyes,