[Suzerain of Sheol]

Without a word, Shealtiel struts ahead of them, then, with deliberate movements, points with his cane into the distance.

Stretching out before them among the ruins are towering shapes, scattered in seemingly no organized pattern. Crucifixes. Dozens of them. Of the few nearby, none of the victims show any sign of movement, hanging limp.

Dust swirls around them, making it difficult to see further. The old man waits for them to decide upon a course of action, unsure of what precisely is going on here, though he is beginning to suspect....