"I'm no Jurist." I whimper at ANDREW I's accusation, my eyes glued to Phoenix Guild's coat of arms emblazoned on the ID card.

"Not all kings wear crowns." ANDREW I scoffs from his painting, "Just as not all Jurists read law. Tell me, what makes a Jurist?"

I don't know. I don't know.

I don't know anything.

"A judge." ANDREW I continues, the derision clear in his voice, "Passing judgment over others. Controlling them. Caging them. That is what makes a Jurist."

I've not controlled anyone. I'm barely in control of my own life.

"I'm aware of what you are." ANDREW I rolls his expressive eyes at me, "You're a cog in a machine. Following orders. Enforcing the judgment passed by the other Jurists."

"What judgment?" my voice screams beyond human limit, the echo causing my ears to ring painfully.

"Look. See." a feminine voice cuts in, "And understand what your kind has wrought."

ANDREW I's portrait had fallen silent and my attention is pulled toward the opposite end of the room. The portrait of ANDREA XII confronts me, the eyes of the woman holding the baby fixing me with an accusatory stare. But it is the baby's mouth that moves, her eyes dead and staring.

"Imprisoned." the portrait of ANDREA XII shifts like curdling milk, flitting between brief, barely comprehensible images. But I can just make out fragments of city life, a woman under constant watch, perhaps even house arrest.

"Kept ignorant of my purpose." the baby intones, the voice harsh and scratchy. Sounding almost like a man's. My eyes struggle to stay open, the cloying fragrance of incense weighing on my head like a cinder block.

"All to keep your master's paradise safe," the baby sneers, her teeth sharp like an animal's. One of the woman's arms begins reaching out, passing through the canvas. Claw like hands grasp at me with feverish intensity. Wisps of smoke drift toward me like a noose. The walls of the prayer room twist, shrinking and contorting. I'm being pushed into a corner.

There's no escape.

"Your kind will never lay your hands on me ever again." the baby pronounces with deadly finality.

"I'm not here because of Phoenix Guild!" I yell out for dear life. The specter's claws pause, bare inches from my throat.

"Then why are you here?" ANDREW I pipes up again.

"I'm here to find the Fat Man! Only the Fat Man! I don't know about any baby!" I plead desperately, the sour stench of urine rising from my trousers.

"Who sent you?" ANDREW I demands, the pressure of his presence unrelenting.

"The sensorium!" I cry out hopefully, "I'm working for the sensorium!"

There's dead silence at this revelation. I begin to relax. Maybe I can get out of this mess after all -

And my senses are blasted apart by uproarious laughter coming from all twelve of the paintings. Gales of malicious mirth batter me into submission, forcing me awkwardly to my knees.

"The Sensorium?" ANDREW I guffaws past his extravagant beard, "How far have you all fallen, to rely on this runt to do your bidding!"

"There was no need for us to be so afraid." ANDREA II smirks, "If these incompetents are all Phoenix Guild and the Sensorium can muster."

These? Is there more than one person here? My mind sluggishly grinds its gears. Yes, there should be one other person here. Ned. Ted. Or Fred. But there's no one here. No one other than the paintings leering down at me.

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"Do you know what you really are?" ANDREW I asks coldly. Before I can answer, the painted mouth moves again, the parchment obscenely stretching itself out.

"A maggot. A carrion eater." ANDREW I's mouth horrifically distorts, enlarging like a python's maw, "Feeding off refuse to extend your own life. Imagine someone like you believing he's worthy to stand alongside god."

ANDREW I disgorges a flood of worms from his mouth, inundating me in the squirming, thrashing mass. I feel the worms, squirming their way up my nose, my ears, my mouth. They're all over me, inside me, eating me from within. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

It huuuuuurrrrrrrtttttttssss

"Seeker."

Breath's calm voice whispers in the stagnant wind, the pain of the parasites infesting my body ebbing ever so slightly. I open my mouth to call out for help but can only manage a gargling noise as the worms writhe in my throat.

"Seeker, are you here?"

Breath asks distantly, his footsteps fading away. No. Don't leave me. I'm here. I'm in the prayer room. Why can't you notice me? Aren't you supposed to be linked to the cosmos or something?

HELP ME

SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME

My teeth close in on the squirming mass in my mouth, causing the worms to pop like fat bubbles. The atrocious taste causing my stomach to revolt almost immediately, causing me to explosively puke. The parasites are expelled forcibly from my body, spraying across the prayer mat.

"Poor child." a soft compassionate voice sighs.

I timidly look up and see the woman portrayed in the ANDREA XII painting. The nightmare baby is thankfully nowhere to be found.

"You never chose to become what you are." the woman shakes her head, "And now you're left adrift in a world that cannot understand you."

Yes. That's correct. I just wanted to live. Everything I've done, it was all just to survive.

"You're in pain." the woman smiles sadly, "The world will never forgive you. Never grant you absolution."

I'm all alone. Even Breath has abandoned me. There's no one left.

"I'm here." the woman gently consoles, "If you will accept me."

Yes. Of course. Anything to make the horror stop. I don't know how much more I can take.

"Shall we pray?" the woman suggests, "For your salvation."

I nod wearily, the prayer mat beckoning me irresistibly. Collapsing on my knees, I clasp both hands together tightly. The sour scent of my piss stained trousers blots out the fragrance of from the incense.

And I see.

Ned Ted Fred's body is lying at my side, a look of utter terror frozen on his face. Flecks of foam surround his mouth and the warm rusty smell of blood rises from the body. My eyes track the multiple gashes torn across the corpse. But the centerpiece is a giant pair of forceps holding open a massive tear in Ned Ted Fred's chest. A mechanical contraption sits on top of the forceps like a bloated spider, slowly extracting out Ned Ted Fred's halo, coalescing it into a glittering soul gem.

The light from the soul gem flickers, casting shadows across the prayer room. The corpse disappears from my sight as if it was never there. But as I gently move my hand across the empty air, my fingers brush the corpse's blood caked slacks. A chill travels down my spine, rousing my dulled senses.

A constellation of stars explodes in my face. Soul gems, hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. Lining the floors, walls and ceiling of the room. The entire prayer room is an array that I had unknowingly intruded into. And presiding over the array is the Fat Man himself, towering over me with one of Ned Ted Fred's swords in his hands, ready to strike. My weapons have all been discarded in a pile on the other side of the room, far out of my reach.

"Forget everything." the Fat Man wheezes in a nasally falsetto, "And find peace in my embrace."

The sword begins to descend in a deadly arc, the blade glinting with eagerness.

"Yeah, pass." I grunt. The Fat Man's eyes widen in alarm and the sword wavers for a second. And a second is all I need.

I lurch forward in a clumsy lunge, tackling the Fat Man's legs. He wobbles about unsteadily before toppling over, his rotund bulk jiggling like a lump of jelly. Straddling the Fat Man, I deliver a hard slap on his face, sending spittle flying everywhere.

"Illusions. Very clever." I snarl, "I wanted to do this the polite way, but now I'm going to kick your ass just out of principle."

"Nice try." the Fat Man warbles, "You really think I'm beaten so easily?"

"Looks that way to me." I sneer, levying another slap on the Fat Man's jowls, "Talking back just makes me hit you harder by the way."

The Fat Man grins and gives me a hard shove, sending me flying off his body. No way that's possible. The Fat Man is made out of 99% blubber and 1% muscle. Neither was he using any class skills to boost his physical strength.

"None of this is an illusion." the Fat Man pronounces grandly as the soul gem array blazes with even greater intensity. The Fat Man and the room begin to expand, growing larger and larger. Within mere seconds, my opponent is the size of a giant.

"Everything here is real." the Fat Man declares, his voice booming, "Welcome to my world, wretch."

"A self contained reconciliation." I swallow hard, finally understanding, "Fueled by the soul gems."

"Yes. Very astute." the Fat Man laughs, "The true Aga Khan left behind more secrets than you Sensorium ingrates could ever hope to learn."

"The Aga who?" I shake my head in confusion, slowly backing away from the lumbering titan.

"Of course the Sensorium would write him out of history." the Fat Man clicks his tongue in annoyance, "It doesn't matter though. Not to you anyway."

"You do know that all Awakened know how to deal with reconciliations, right?" I shoot back, trying to sound braver than I feel.

"Then show me how much you know." the Fat Man grins. His fist flying at me like a bolt of lightning.