122. Death

"Cult of the Underworld Internal Bulletin, an interview: what did you feel when you first saw the Underking?"

"I don't know. At the time... I was completely muddled."

John said, blinking as he stretched out both hands, seemingly trying his utmost to gesture at something, yet unable to say what that feeling had been. He seemed to briefly fall back into that shock.

The woman beside the bishop's hospital bed pushed up her glasses.

"Bishop, considering you were the first person who had not been forewarned about him—and did not encounter him in his approachable state the first time—you should answer carefully. Others awaiting an audience with the Underking will use your answer as a reference, so they will not lose their composure too badly when they meet him."

John gaped in astonishment.

"Wait, does he know you're doing this?"

"Perhaps he does. Or perhaps this has not reached a level of concern worthy of his attention. Either way, say what you think, Bishop."

John swallowed. His hands began to twitch involuntarily, as though he had returned to that day and was struggling to grasp how he had felt at that moment.

At last, he bit down on his cracked lips and said,

"That... I can't describe any of it... but... you know, he exists. He answers us. He's there—you have to see him with your own eyes."

The black wind from that time seemed to howl past his face.

He was there.

It was him. No, there was absolutely no mistaking him.

Even the wind fell silent.

The Underking statues of the Cult of the Underworld had no faces, just as the Omnissiah worshipped within the Adeptus Mechanicus had none. The Underking was usually depicted as a broad humanoid draped in a cloak, with a three-headed Cerberus at