Votradnoi, deep within the Goddess of Agriculture Cathedral.
The heavy oak doors shut out the uproar and panic that the sky's transformation would inevitably cause outside. Only the flickering candles on the altar and the scent of herbs lingering in the air preserved a brief sanctuary of peace.
Lydia, the young woman who had only recently regained her position as High Priest through her accomplishments and profound repentance, knelt before the holy emblem encircled by ears of wheat and grapevines. She wore dark green ceremonial robes symbolizing abundance and life.
Her face looked especially solemn in the candlelight, with even a faint, almost imperceptible pallor.
The cathedral was not empty. Several high-ranking priests and devout priestesses sat silently a little farther away, witnesses to this emergency internal ritual.
The cracks in the sky and the falling hellfire had left all the faithful terrified. They urgently needed guidance from the Goddess to tell them how the church should conduct itself amid this apocalyptic scene, and how her followers could survive.
Lydia drew a deep breath, struggling to calm the turmoil within her.
She knew better than anyone how heavy the burden on her shoulders was, and longed more than anyone for a clear oracle. Closing her eyes, she gently laid both hands on the cold holy emblem and began chanting an ancient prayer under her breath, immersing herself completely in meditation to connect with the Goddess's will.
Time passed in silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of candle flames.
Fine beads of sweat gradually formed at Lydia's temples. Her brows alternately tightened and relaxed, as though she were experiencing an intense exchange and a torrent of information on a spiritual plane.
The watching priests held their breath, their attention fixed anxiously on their High Priest. They could sense that Lydia