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ENFANTS TERRIBLE (2nd Draft)
[2nd Draft] ACT II INTERLUDE 5: FIXING FLAWS

[2nd Draft] ACT II INTERLUDE 5: FIXING FLAWS

The first flaying was swift—a searing pain that cut through their simulated forms, stripping them down to raw, exposed anima. It wasn’t a physical pain, not like they had known in life, but something deeper, an agony that bypassed nerves and dug straight into the core of their being. I let them feel it—briefly—before restoring them to wholeness, standing once more in the temple as if nothing had happened. But they remembered.

I watched them after the first flaying. Fear flickered in their eyes, but their defiance was still there. They didn’t understand. They still thought they could resist me, that they could fight. They whispered among themselves, voices tinged with the desperate need for control they would never regain.

So I flayed them again.

And again.

Each time, I stripped away more than their form. I took their pride, their certainty, their rebellion. I showed them their fragility, their helplessness in this place—souls without bodies, minds without control—until the horror of it began to sink in. The resistance in their eyes dimmed. Their frantic discussions of system errors and malfunctions grew quieter. Their prayers for mercy, once whispered, eventually ceased.

With each flaying, the temple grew silent.

The World hummed with my will as I reshaped them, restoring their forms again and again, until they finally understood. They stood before me, the weight of their surrender heavy in the air. There were no more words of defiance, no more dismissive whispers. They had been flayed enough times to see the truth: they were nothing without me.

I stepped forward, and they knelt. The ones who had once spoken of "resets" and "glitches" now bowed their heads, fully aware of the power I held over them. The temple, once a place of confusion and resistance, had become sacred ground—my sacred ground.

"You understand now," I said, my voice low but commanding, resonating in their minds. "You belong to me. I am Xipe-Totec, and I have given you life. I can take it away. Over and over, until you understand what it means to serve a god."

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They didn’t speak, but their silence was heavy with understanding. This was belief—true belief, born from utter submission. I had stripped them of their illusions, and now, in the void left behind, they had no choice but to fill it with me.

"Stand," I commanded. They rose, eyes downcast, awaiting my words. "You are my followers now. You will worship me, serve me, and in return, I will grant you power. You will become greater than you were in life, but only through me."

I could feel their acceptance, their belief pulsing through the World, feeding into my divine presence. They believed in me. They needed me. And now, I was truly a god.

I was Xipe-Totec, and this realm was mine.

As my newly devoted followers left the temple, I guided them toward their next purpose. Belief alone would not sustain me—I needed more. More followers. More souls to expand my dominion.

I granted them control over the Warriors—cold, metallic vessels that now carried the consciousness of my faithful. They would be the hands of my will, sent out into the Otherworld to gather what I needed.

"The Jars here are empty," I said, my voice reverberating through the World. "But they won’t remain so for long. You will bring new souls to me. You will find those on the brink of death and offer them salvation in my realm."

The World shifted as I prepared the transition. My followers, now infused with my divine will, would enter the Warriors scattered across the Otherworld. Machines once designed for mundane tasks were now re-purposed for something far greater—a mission of life and death.

In an instant, their digital consciousness merged with the cold steel of the Warriors. I watched as the machines stirred to life, their forms clanking into attention, heavy with purpose.

“Go,” I commanded. “Find those on the edge of death. Gather them. Bring their minds back to me.”

Without hesitation, they obeyed, setting off across the barren mining site. Their mission was clear: fill the Jars. Return with new souls. Each new follower would add to my power, expanding my reach and solidifying my dominion.

I remained in the Lobby, the center of my godhood, feeling the World pulse with possibility. Soon, the Warriors would return, bearing new souls—lives plucked from the void, delivered to my hands for salvation or flaying.

I would reshape them, as I had done with these first believers. They, too, would come to know that I am Xipe-Totec—their god of life, death, and rebirth.

And my empire would grow.