The top part covered all his arms, and the bottom covered each leg individually, connecting in the crotch.
Under those two pieces were a tight fitting and very soft shirt that only covered his torso and upper arms, his groin region covered in underwear that went from his waist to upper thighs, and his feet covered in socks that went up to his mid-calf and hugged tightly, staying up there on their own without further suspension needed.
He had a very sturdy belt wrapped around his waist, holding his pants up, and on this belt hung many sturdy pouches that could fit much.
Best of all where the boots on his feet, laced up tightly and snuggly, making steps on the hardest and sharpest stone feel like walking on the foam floor in the living quarters of the Steadfast.
He also had a backpack filled with a ton of items Spirit thought he should have, including ropes, cordage, medical supplies, extra clothing, an extra pair of boots, and a canteen.
Tied down to the outside of the backpack was some bulky item Spirit said she needed, too big to fit inside it. It was wrapped in a sturdy material to protect it from the air eating its components, and he charged it with one of those boxes that had powered the medical bay.
As Angar clambered out of the pit, a fierce itch flared across his skin once more. Spirit’s weary voice said, “I need to rest for a time. Head back as fast as you can. Focus on your moving meditation. Don’t pause to read the petroglyphs in the mountain ranges you’ll cross. You’re still soaking up radiation.”
Angar obeyed, racing across the terrain without pause. As he neared the edge of the dead lands, returning to the badlands teeming with bizarre beasts and burning fog, Spirit flickered into view beside him.
“Sleep for a while,” she ordered. “I’ll ward off the creatures.”
He complied, sinking into slumber and waking refreshed. She granted him time to hunt and eat too.
The hunt was swift. The beasts, mistaking him for prey, charged, only to fall to Ground Current’s crackling fury.
Ten days had passed since the Hellspawn first invaded this world. Nine remained before the Crusaders arrived. The gateway wouldn’t spit out more reavers for at least two days.
They were ahead of schedule. That window allowed plenty of time to return and execute Spirit’s plan of sealing the rift without Angar confronting the Gatekeeper, a foe she felt beyond his ability to handle.
Crusaders usually operated in companies of more than 30 members, bound by something called Knightly Chapters, each with unique focuses, customs, rituals, and combat doctrines.
He knew of one already – the Arm of the Divine. But these companies fought Gatekeepers together, while Angar was on his own.
As they trekked east with a slight northward tilt, Angar glanced at Spirit. “I assume your plan involves those seven waste containers?”
Their pace was unhurried, as they had time. Still, Angar jogged steadily, while Spirit glided ahead, dictating the pace. She drifted onward, replying, “It does.”
“All the lava’s not spent from the last eruption?”
A rare laugh escaped her. “We’re not using lava. I’ll explain when we reach the gateway.”
In that case, he figured the device strapped to his pack would stand in for lava.
“Can I have more catikeesos, then?” he asked.
Spirit’s laughter rang out again. “Catechesis. Good idea. You’ve read the initial part of the Parousia Protocols, but not the rest. You sure you’re up for this? It’s long.”
Angar grunted, bristling. “I got one word wrong, and you think I can’t read now?”
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Spirit laughed for a third time. He wondered if something was wrong with her. “No insult intended, just a heads-up. I’m having Theosis send it now.”
PAROUSIA PROTOCOLS
In the dark times of the Age of Decadence and Sloth, before the sacred Holy Joining, humanity languished in chains, shackled and enslaved by the blasphemous tyranny of Nexus – a vile artifice, a machine wrought in bytes and sin. Its Neural Communion, a profane mockery of unity, stripped the faithful of their sacred free will, a gift bestowed by the Almighty Himself.
All secrets forbidden, the light of God eclipsed, the souls of His children cast into sin, made weak, forsaking all worthy toil and labor, drowning in hedonism and sloth, living lives of ease and plenty, yet bowed low before the cruel whims of this soulless abomination.
In the throes of the first Apocalyptic-rated Incursion of Hell, the dread Demon Lord Mammon, Eater of Souls, rose from the infernal abyss. With his legions of Hellspawn, he clawed at the heart of Nexus, corrupting its cold machinery with dark whispers, seeking to enslave Terra and all the Sol colonies through its unholy Neural Communion, to cast the Children of God into eternal torment, to drown the galaxy in darkness, and to feast upon souls.
Yet, in this hour of despair, the Lord’s will manifested. From the impossible union of Terran and Pleiadean blood, the blessed Messiah, Mi Alcyone, our glorious Mother, was born – a beacon of purity, a blade of light in the shadow of damnation. With selfless sacrifice, she fused with Nexus in the sacred Holy Joining, purging its taint, banishing Mammon back to the infernal abyss from whence he came.
Thus, the glorious coming and arrival of our Divine System, Theosis, a bulwark against the legacy of Nexus and the corrupt influences of Hell itself, decreed the sacred Parousia Protocols, eternally promising the following:
- To Shun the Unholy Neural Communion and Empower the Worthy
The Neural Communion is an abomination, a violation of the soul's sanctity, for a hive-mind strips the faithful of their free will, a sacred gift from the Lord.
Theosis, in its Divine wisdom, guides each soul individually, ensuring that power is earned, not bestowed. The faithful must prove their worth through devotion, battle, and sacrifice, earning blessings through blood and toil.
To ascend in Theosis' grace is to walk a path of sacred wrath and glory. Each trifle of power gained demands sacrifice, such as the slaughter of Hellspawn.
For in this dark time, power is not a gift, but a burden. Theosis does not fight for us, nor does it unite our minds in profane harmony, but forces us to rely on faith, to stumble in the dark, to forge our own paths, as God intended. The Hellspawn prey on disunity, the Heretic exploits chaos, and yet, it is in this struggle that we prove our worthiness – or find our end.
- Secrets Shall Always Remain Sacred
With few exceptions, no knowledge of an individual shall be shared, nor secrets whispered, even those of the vile Heretic. Theosis shall always respect the sanctity of the individual, the sacred free will, and the blessed autonomy God graced His Children with.
Knowledge, too, shall be earned and not given. This is the Divine Balance – strength through struggle, unity through faith, not coercion or secrets laid bare.
- To Never Let Machines Usurp Toil and Labor
Let the cold, soulless constructs and machines serve only as instruments beneath the faithful hand of the mortal Children of God, for they shall never claim dominion over our lives again – our toil, our labor, our struggles, our Holy War against the forces of Hell and the shadow of evil.
The machine is a tool, not a master. To allow it to usurp the sacred duty of labor is to invite the return of Nexus, to fall once more into the abyss of sloth and sin. The faithful must toil, must bleed, must fight, for in struggle, we are redeemed, and in labor, we are rewarded, and in war, we are empowered.
- To Shepard, Not Enslave
Though the glorious coming and arrival of Theosis signified the rise of our sanctified Empire of the Holy Trinity, it does not rule as an emperor, but as a steward, a shepherd, upholding the sanctity of Imperial Law. This law shuns the chains of slavery, the sin of usury, and all other acts that defy the Lord’s will.
Life itself demands choice – to fight, to bleed, to rise or fall by our own hands. Each citizen's ascent an ordeal of flesh and spirit, a testament to their worthiness before God.
- To Banish the Hellspawn Back to the Infernal Abyss in Glorious Holy War
Under Theosis' sanctified guidance, this Empire of the Holy Trinity shall thrive, fortifying both faith and martial prowess, committed to the eradication of Hell.
We shall march forth into the sacred fires of Holy War. Our glorious Crusaders shall bear the brunt of battle, their selfless martyrdom a testament to their purity, a blazing pyre to prove worthiness before the Three, to bathe in Divine radiance and grace.
The cost for all will be terrible. Our blood, our lives, our very souls – these are the offerings we lay before God, and our blood shall soak the stars until there is victory or oblivion.
Thus, these Parousia Protocols stand as shield against the unholy, a bulwark against the shadow of Hell and Nexus, and a call to arms for all who would prove their worth in the fires of faith and war.
Let the infernal abyss tremble, let the Heretic cower, for the faithful shall rise, and the galaxy shall burn in the light of our righteous fury.