In the ancient Zapotec tomb, the gods of antiquity were carved into the stone. The Ant God symbolized death and final return in the Underworld, the Bat God represented night and sacrifice, the Rain God was tornado and storm, while the Earth Mother God sat high at the center of the vault, cradling everything deep within the earth.
The two great nobles of the Mexica Alliance stood there with bleak faces, gazing at divine carvings from centuries past. They stood at the entrance to death in the Underworld, walking against their will through the indistinct night toward a cruel and terrifying sacrifice. The Alliance's storm was quietly sweeping beneath The Sun, and the dark Earth Mother meant to devour everything. And in this future where the earth would sink and the heavens collapse, how were the two of them supposed to choose? What choice could they even make?
"Izel, whether the Prophet dies or not, however many Alliance nobles' paths he's blocked, as for how we protect ourselves, I'm only asking one thing—according to you, what are we supposed to do?! Those old foxes of the High Priest Council, those cold Cihuacoatl of the Divine King's line, they're all thinking of eating us alive! Damn it, how are we supposed to choose? What choice do we have?!"
Reed Clan Chief Sintel was furious and frantic, and he had lost more than a little composure. Over these years, one great city-state noble after another had died on the battlefield, died in sacrifice, died under punishment, lost their clan fiefs, or been sent off a thousand miles away. These were all glorious nobles like him, "old friends" who had drunk wine with him, fought wars with him, enjoyed pleasures with him, and shared marriage ties with him! The Divine King's blood-colored terror