"Begin? What are you going to do?" Johnny shouted in terror.
"Silence!" snapped the tall man in purple standing to Johnny's left, his voice edged with fury.
"What are you going to do! What are you going to do!" Johnny's voice grew louder, hoarse with desperation as he cried out, hoping someone—anyone—might hear him.
"I said, quiet!" The large man stormed up to Johnny and hissed harshly into his ear.
Johnny's shouts died down, but his breathing came in ragged gasps, his entire body trembling. Panic surged through him—he had no idea what fate awaited him in the next moment.
"The vessel is prepared. We may begin the ritual," the burly man announced to the circle of purple-robed figures gathered below the platform.
A deep, unified shout of excitement burst from them. "Hooah!"
"No! What are you doing—what are you doing!" Johnny cried again, terrified by what he saw.
Perhaps his outburst disrupted their ritual. The burly man strode over swiftly, leaned close, and whispered a strange incantation in Johnny's ear. Johnny's eyes fluttered, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
...
Meanwhile, in the detention chamber, Will heard Johnny's anguished cries. Quietly, he crept to the door, slipped it open, and followed the sound through the dim corridors.
But suddenly, Johnny's voice stopped.
'Why did it suddenly go silent? Could something have happened?' Will froze, dread seizing his heart. He couldn't bear to imagine what Johnny's mother might feel if something had happened to her son. Shaking off the thought, Will pressed on, quickening his pace.
'What... what are they doing?' Will crouched near the corner that led into the hall, peeking around to witness the chilling scene.
The purple-robed cultists had laid Johnny unconscious on the floor, precisely atop a six-pointed star etched into the stone. They formed a circle around him, hands clasped in solemn unison.
'That symbol—it's just like the one I saw at the inn...' Will stared at the six-pointed star painted on the wall, his mind racing.
"The vessel is ready. People of Remm Town, let us welcome the return of our master," proclaimed the leader from the platform, arms raised to the heavens.
The crowd below began chanting in low, guttural tones—an eerie language Will couldn't understand.
'Remm Town? They're from Remm Town?' Will's eyes widened in disbelief. He yearned to rush in, to save Johnny—but more than anything, he needed to understand who these people truly were.
"The vessel is ready. The Black Star shall rise. We stand in reverence for your arrival," the leader cried. As he lifted his right hand, a purple light shot upward from his ring, forming a black swirling cloud above. A vortex opened in its center, casting a blinding white light down upon Johnny's still form.
The cultists' chanting grew louder and more frenzied.
'That ring—it's just like the one Lisa found in the Bonecrush Arena...' Will's gaze fixed on the glowing gem.
Then, something began to happen. Bathed in the white light, Johnny's body started to rise, slowly levitating toward the vortex.
'What in the world is this…?' Will stood frozen, paralyzed by the surreal sight before him.
Two inky green tentacles slowly emerged from the vortex, slithering toward Johnny like monstrous limbs from a nightmare.
Will remembered Johnny's dream—the one where he was suffocated by a giant tentacle.
"The Master is coming," the cult leader declared.
"People of Remm Town, offer your loyal blood!" he continued.
With chilling precision, each robed figure drew a dagger and plunged it into their own abdomen. Their blood pooled across the floor, flowing into the grooves of the six-pointed star, which began to glow a vivid red.
"Excellent! Flesh and blood have been prepared. Descend upon us, my master!" the leader bellowed, as if praising a revered elder.
Johnny suddenly opened his eyes mid-air, his face twisted in agony. "Ahhh!"
"It's almost done!" the leader roared.
"Stop!" shouted Will as he sprang from the shadows, his voice ringing through the hall.
"You dare interrupt the rite, mortal?" The cultist turned and aimed the ring at Will.
A blast of violet energy surged toward him.
"Ah!" Will ducked just in time, dodging the blast.
"Damn it! He attacked without warning!" Will gritted his teeth, crouching low.
Another blast hurtled toward him. Will rolled forward, narrowly escaping.
"That's it—I'm done playing!" Will drew his short sword and charged.
But just like Pix in the Bonecrush Arena, the cultist's ring flared—and he vanished.
"Where is he?" Will halted, eyes scanning.
"Why interfere, mortal?" The cultist's voice came from behind.
Will spun, slashing upward. The man dodged—but Will's blade tore away his hood.
"You're—the innkeeper?!" Will gasped, staring at the face beneath.