![]() ![]() Those places are often the beginning of the trail of cloister and all its turns and sumps pouring down to the secret places rarely they are the root of the towered secrets, and one must go into the u-bend of the earth to find the graven stairway or infinite spiderweb to climb into underground peaks cloaked in stone and hidden from light and warmth. ![]() The Secret Police walk among the supplicants in their robes and jewels, blessed by their braziers or swaddled in their sackcloth, or naked and besmirched with industrial runoff or the stuff of the outlying muck paths of Megakratheon where the Twin Canals break down into rivulets, shorn veins waving in the wind cursed by something of the forge, something forgotten, or something rejected and turned out by the earth. Petitioners and pilgrims of the secret places high and low are shorn of the conduits by the Death Brigade, the white-masked shades emerging in hazes of gunsmoke and infernal firelights. Some seek a transformation into destruction, some seek the creation of a great battery that will annex, ecncompasss, energize and revivify, or overload all things of man and material. There are rare others from without and within would would turn it into an array for energy of cosmic or pseudopsychological origin, a place of constant chaos and the only fit host for it given its ancient stability the only place that could carry the chaos they seek, magical or personal or ideological. There are those who would steer the empire away from such things those would would make Megakratheon into a candlelit cathedral of dead pantheons, dead powers, fossils osseous and devoid of poisonous psychedelic lifeblood, a place as known as stone and as slow-moving. The hidden tastes of the Emperor are unknown in their full contours to those of his administration, but that his interest turns to the antediluvian, the archaeological, the arcogoetic is news to no one in Megakratheon and few among the isles and peoples. by the agents of the Emperor or his agents unbeknownst to him. These places are sought, rooted out, catalogued, rendered legible and infertile, dead, ossified. These places are fanes, hideaways, colonies, RGOs, drug factories, or insubstantial venues for the quests of visionaries as far flung as the Earthhearts, Affidavits, Plenarites, or those beneath the canals in up-down synchronicity whose lichen fanes and abyssal monasteries launch them through manifest conduits born of their own minds and spirits. These have their stewards, observers, muses whose voices shape the plants’ future forms, possibility echoed into place by tenders’ or squatters’ voices. Crystalline, dark things or motile and consumed with their own bioluminescence. Caught and trapped, fertilizing stone itself until plants befitting stone as plants befit the soil come forth, unseen by natural light and as mineralized as fertilized. There are colonies in the megaliths too, equally far-flung, in the mile heights or deep within the icy stone, places aired and honeycombed by moisture long forgotten or coursing still with the rains, caught when the salt sea casts purity over the Twin Canals of Megakratheon. There are halls of undying oxygen, heat and water, or none of the above, mere radiation or radiance that sustains life, or a void, a nothingness that consumes the pilgrims as is their right, desire or suspicion. There are colonies beneath the surface of Megakratheon, sites lost to archaeology but remembered by delvers and believers. The Anarcho-Syndicalist cadres attribute this new unionism to their own efforts, but can’t figure out why they can’t win the full cooperation of these particular unions the Political Officer is considering eliminating the foremen and enforcing co-option of the Unions, the Cultural Officer is attempting to moderate the Political Officer’s view and get the unions to come over to Anarcho-Syndicalism, the Militia Foreman is scouting worksites to have the men buried alive when the order comes down, and the Engineer is too busy focusing on the logistics of their production apparatuses to weigh in on the political issue. His own subordinate motivation is to eliminate the Anarcho-Syndicalists, and the Entity has stoked his resentments in this direction he now blames them for the nascent Union movement within his workforce, which is actually coming about for the first time due to his own budding misconduct. Co-opted by the Occultist he had a chance to pack up and leave, but even though he’d benefitted his employees, provided value to customers, and even engaged in philanthropy, he had no deep wisdom or conviction to stand on when the Occultist began moving to capture him, and ultimately he capitulated and adopted the Entity as his superordinate cause.
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