The Stone Temple and the War Machine
"When gods move in silence, the world holds its breath."
— Inscription on the Temple of Five Altars
The Awakening of Zantrayel
It began with tremors under the old mountains, deep where no man dared walk.
The winds howled in unnatural rhythm. Thunder split the skies—without rain, without storm.
The priestesses screamed in unison. The Lwa whispered to their priestesses in dreams.
Zantrayel, the sleeping War Machine of the Ancients, had awoken.
A creation born of man and beast, but forged from knowledge of god who had once tried to reforge the realm of the dead itself. Its gears had long rusted into myth. Its name was used to frighten children.
But it had returned.
Not walking. Not killing.
Just awake.
Waiting.
Zion did not sleep that night.
Erzulie Freda, goddess of beauty, love, and divine command, came to him—wrapped in silks of moonlight and power that made even his breath catch.
"A feast," she said, her voice like gold being poured over flame.
"Seventy-seven of the most ferocious beasts within a hundred miles. Caught alive. Brought to the stone temple. Their flesh prepared. Their spirits offered."
And then her eyes darkened.
"Seven days, Zion. Not eight. If one is missed, or the order is broken, the door will never open again."
Zion, confused but resolute, bowed. He knew better than to question a god's purpose—especially when five priestesses were involved.
The Stone Temple Ritual
The Stone Temple had no known origin. It stood untouched on the edge of the deep forest since before Zion's people had arrived. No door. No carvings. Just presence.
Only now did it stir.
The five priestesses—Ayola, Thalia, Elis, Sael, and Aromi—were summoned. Each chosen by a different Lwa. Each marked by divine favor. All five would enter the temple once the beasts were offered.
"The door will shut behind them," Zion was told.
"None may enter—not even you, husband of gods."
His jaw tightened. But he agreed.
He trusted them.
He feared what the gods might reveal.
Tijan Petro's Visit
Elsewhere, in the shadows between reason and madness, Tijan Petro stepped from the veil and appeared before Jalen and Ayira.
His laughter echoed like broken wind chimes.
"I have a hunt for you two," he grinned. "Seven beasts—wild, ancient, cursed. You'll find them for Zion. But more than that… You'll guard the gate."
Ayira frowned. "Even from Zion?"
Tijan's golden eyes gleamed.
"Especially from Zion."
Jalen did not question. He only nodded.
Ayira, still new to her divine strength, felt something tighten inside her. But she followed.
They would not just hunt—they would be the threshold between the gods and the mortal world.
The Countdown Begins
With the sun rising on the first of seven days, the land stirred with activity.
Hunters were dispatched.
Scouts rode deep into the unclaimed wilderness.
Beastmasters from old tribes were summoned from retirement.
Zion walked the length of his capital with his wives, issuing orders, ensuring the country did not panic.
But the people could feel it.
Something massive loomed. They didn't understand it—but they knew to respect it.
Offerings were made. Fires burned for seven days. The temple door, once blank, began to shimmer faintly with sigils of the Lwa.