[Suzerain of Sheol]

Thomas is the first through the yawning doorway, followed by his soldiers in a tight formation. Diogenes proceeds warily after them.

Once more, the sight beyond is shocking. And once more, the way behind has vanished.

They stand now under a moonless night, without wind or even the sound of chattering insects to break the dead silence.

In every direction, endlessly, stretches a cemetery: rank upon rank upon rank of identical marble-carved headstones. An infinity of death.

Only a small chapel in the distance breaks the uniform perfection of the graves.

Thomas, frowning in irritation, stomps over to the nearest tombstone, his eyes flashing over the inscription, only to widen in a rare dismay from the merciless priest.

He reads aloud. "Here lies interred the Savior of the World. May He be blessed."

In hesitation, he steps to the next grave, a deepening worry creasing his aged forehead. "Here lies interred the Savior..."

And again, another. "Here lies interred..."

It is the fourth grave he comes to that halts him. The carving reads the same, and yet....

Exhumation. Disembodied. Empty.

He reads the headstone once more, and notices the alteration, gouged by a crude, ignorant hand over the original:

Here lied interred the Savior of the World.

Here lied the Savior.

And where the body should have lain, where lifeless earth should abide... is a stair, descending into utter darkness like a pathway to Sheol itself.

Now the wind begins to stir across the field of graves.

A fell light glows from the chapel.

Thomas cannot bring himself to move.