The Devoted

We make our way though a deep fissure, flanked on both sides by imposing sheets of blood-red rock. All is quiet but the dull echo of our footsteps against the cliffs; our throats are too parched by sun and dust for conversation.

Suddenly, the fissure opens out, revealing a towering cliff before us. Carved into its face, like a subterranean cathedral, is a temple: a great, glowing complex of polished rock and gilded artistry.

Astounded, we enter between pillars of quartz into a hall lined by statues. At the far end, group stands apart from the rest. To our shock and horror, we recognise the towering faces as our own. As we stare up at them, a gong sounds behind us. We turn to behold a sea of spectral forms, kneeling before us: a congregation, gathered in worship. At their head, a phantom priest in golden robes smiles in our direction. He speaks in words of revelation.

“To believe in a god is to put your faith in ideas. But true worship teaches faith in humanity. Claim the power of devotion. Believe in one another.”