Oh no, no, no, no! They're talking about the real kind of sacrifice. What did they have planned next?
The air in the chamber shifted again and my feelings shifted with them, from peace to need, to desire–not sexual, but somehow baser than that of even the most primal need. The torches burned lower, their flames dimming into smoldering embers, and yet the room did not darken. A presence hung over us, watching.
The speaker raised their hands once more. The crowd did not shuffle, did not murmur, only waited.
"The cycle continues. The old world withers, but we do not mourn. We nurture its decay. We guide its remains toward purpose."