Anya nodded, her grip tightening on the weapon at her side. The unease in the air was almost tangible now, thick like a fog that clouded their senses. Every step forward felt like an invitation to the unknown.

As they crept closer to the city streets, Vas glanced back at the kneeling figures, their heads still bowed toward the temple. He felt as though they were being watched, as if the eyes of the entire city were fixed on them—waiting, expecting.

In the heart of the temple, Vas's gaze locked onto the eight towering pillars, each one meticulously placed in a precise, ominous formation. There was no doubt in his mind: whatever the Hekatonkheires were planning, this temple was the epicenter of it all. The oppressive air weighed heavily on him, as if the stones themselves were watching, waiting for something to happen.

Vas took a slow, deliberate breath. He knew what came next—what he had to do—but the risk was palpable. Visión del Velo could reveal truths too dangerous to behold, sights that might cost him more than just his peace of mind. Still, he couldn't turn back now. He needed to see this through, no matter the cost.

He activated the vision.

The world around him shifted. Colors bled away, replaced by the eerie glow of the spiritual plane. And what he saw made his heart skip a beat.

The entire temple was pulsing with energy, its ancient walls thrumming with power far beyond anything he'd expected. Thin, shimmering threads of light connected everything—every stone, every pillar, every figure standing frozen in front of the temple. The kneeling people, who had at first appeared to be mere worshippers, were not simply enthralled. They were conduits, their very souls feeding into the arcane network of power that tied the pillars together.

This place is a battery, Vas thought, his stomach tightening. A battery for something far more monstrous.

"Your eyes," Anya's voice cut through the silence, a tremor of unease in her tone. "They look like a snake's." She took a step closer, but kept her distance, wary. "What's going on?"

"I'm looking," Vas answered, his voice hollow, "at the spiritual world."

Anya glanced around nervously, as though expecting the unseen to suddenly materialize around them. "And what are you seeing?"

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"Everything," Vas murmured, still transfixed by the glowing lines of energy, "everything is leading to those pillars." He pointed, his voice distant, almost reverent. The pillars now hummed with a sinister, unseen force, drawing on the life force of the kneeling figures like some kind of grotesque ritual.

"Any idea why?" Anya asked, her voice low, tension thick in the air.

Vas hesitated. He could feel the weight of ancient eyes upon him—eyes that had been shut for millennia, now slowly opening.

"I have my theories," he said, swallowing hard.

Anya's brow furrowed. "Like?"

"The Hekatonkheires," Vas whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "Ancient giants from a forgotten era, creatures that once challenged the gods themselves. They've been asleep for aeons, but..." He trailed off, glancing at the pillars. "They're trying to come back."

Anya stiffened. "What?" Her voice was sharp now, fear seeping into her tone.

Vas nodded, his eyes hardening. "Those hybrid machines we've seen, the strange rituals, the disfigured bodies—they're all connected. According to what I've uncovered, the Hekatonkheires' rituals involved human sacrifice. They twisted the bodies of their followers into grotesque shapes, positioning them into forms that would allow them to transcend mortality. But this... this is different. They're using these people to fuel something bigger."

Anya's voice dropped to a whisper. "And those pillars? What do they have to do with it?"

"The Hekatonkheires weren't just giants. They were... abominations. Fifty heads, a hundred arms, a hundred eyes." Vas's voice darkened as he spoke, the weight of ancient knowledge pressing on him. "Bodies like that are impossible now. So they're building new ones. These people—they're being transformed. Their energy is feeding the pillars, shaping the vessels the Hekatonkheires will return in. That's why the bodies we've seen look like twisted machines. They're preparing for a resurrection."

Anya's gaze shot back to the pillars, her face paling. "And the ritual is happening now, isn't it?"

Vas nodded grimly. "It hasn't fully begun yet, but it will. Soon. And when it does, those pillars will be the key. The center of whatever hell they're about to unleash."

The realization hung in the air between them, heavy and suffocating. They couldn't get close to the heart of the temple—not with the figures kneeling in front of it, their energy feeding into the ritual. It was too dangerous. One wrong move, and they would be drawn into the vortex, trapped in the cycle of sacrifice.

"We need to explore," Vas said finally, breaking the silence. "Find anything we can to stop this."

They began moving carefully through the ruins, the oppressive silence broken only by the distant hum of energy pulsing through the pillars. Each step felt heavier, as though the very ground beneath them was aware of their presence. Vas's eyes traced the murals and carvings on the crumbling walls, each more disturbing than the last. Twisted figures, monstrous forms with dozens of eyes, arms, and heads, filled the stone surfaces, telling a story of worship and terror. This was no city. This was a shrine—a place of adoration built to honor the Hekatonkheires.

As they moved deeper into the ruins, the carvings became more grotesque, more horrifying. Human bodies twisted into unnatural forms, bound to mechanical parts, merging flesh with metal. It was all starting to make sense now. The machines, the statues—they were all part of the same dark ritual.

"The temple in the center," Vas muttered, his voice barely audible. "It was built for them. To house their resurrected bodies, to bring them back."

"And we're standing in the middle of it," Anya whispered, her voice filled with dread.

Vas didn't reply. He didn't need to. They both knew what was coming. Whatever lay in wait at the center of the temple—whatever ancient evil was about to rise—was beyond anything they could have imagined.

But they had no choice. They had to keep going.

Because if they didn't stop it, the Hekatonkheires would awaken.