SalivaSpittingWorm

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"That... my Liege, the turn of our awakening have any significance?" asked Zenobe as she swallowed her resentment towards Hellcage. Lambert also looked up, curious for an answer.

Caila considered the question, naturally wanting to provide a response that suited her role. She could hardly say she had no idea who or what would decide who woke up.

"My most loyal," she replied in a low voice, mentally patting herself on the shoulder in satisfaction. That sounded good.

Lambert nodded and seemed satisfied with the answer. Zenobe wasn't so content anymore, turning away and biting into the hem of her dress while inwardly cursing. 'Of course, it has to be Hellcage! That old fart! Aggrrr!' She stopped chewing on the fabric of her dress when she heard the soft sound of ripping fabric. She turned to face her god again and acted as if nothing had happened.

Lambert, oblivious to Zenobe's silent rampage, placed his hand on his chest and asked in his gruff voice with an accent Caila couldn't recognize, "What are your orders?"

Again, Caila was silent for a moment, as this was a question of great importance. What were the orders? She didn't know much about the layout of the city, its purpose, or its residents; she just knew that the residents weren't exactly normal.

She was still petrified herself, and so were the people in the town. Hellcage had gone out into the world to find worshippers to free her from the stone, and there wasn't much she could do yet. Her situation and lack of knowledge also limited her greatly in how to deal with her followers. Luckily, she had gained one way to at least obtain some information: praying to her gave her the ability to look into the minds of worshippers and extract some information from them.

It was just a shame that she could only scratch the surface; if she could go deeper, she would surely gain more. She didn't care about invading their privacy.

"Pray," Caila ordered, already adjusting her mind to delve deeper into meditation so she could hear their prayers.

"As you command," Lambert said, clasping his hands together, bowing his head, and closing his eyes. Zenobe immediately did the same. Caila sighed in relief and fell into meditation.

Caila was greeted by darkness, but it didn't intimidate her. Soon, she spotted two lights in the darkness, glittering gold with a hint of blue. She moved closer, and from each light, she heard a low murmur and recognized the voices of Lambert and Zenobe.

She examined the lights and wondered if the golden color represented their lives or minds, with the reflections of blue likely representing Caila, considering the blue flames were associated with her as a god.

Caila reached out and touched the light that represented Zenobe. Caila's prayer sounded in her ear.

"My God of the Forgotten and Unwanted, my Liege, the only true God, hear my most humble prayer. Thank you for existing, for your care and guidance; my soul, body, and mind belong to you. I shall never forget your divine revelation..."

Caila was a little stunned by such a prayer. 'No, I really don't want your soul, much less your body,' she thought to herself. Is this what a fanatic's prayer looks like?

Hellcage's prayer was much more normal, more like he was respectfully asking for a conversation. Dali and Leo, on the other hand, seemed uncertain and confused about what to do and what to expect, while Marik sounded more like he was trying not to think about the fact that he'd like to have roasted sausage for dinner. Caila had a completely different experience with each.

Caila smiled unconsciously. "Curious," she said aloud to herself, then clasped the light representing Zenobe in her hands, and the darkness around her grew lighter.

Slowly, images floated around her like soap bubbles, some gray, others colored, and others glowing like beacons. Caila had a guess that the grayed-out scenes were things Zenobe had forgotten or hidden in her subconscious, and the glowing ones were probably what was important to Zenobe or currently on her mind. The normally colored ones might be connected to her personality.

Caila needed to explore this place more, but she didn't have much time as her presence here only lasted a moment longer than the prayer itself. Therefore, Caila didn't linger too long and touched one of the glowing images that spread around her.

The forest spread out around her, a crowd of villagers stood around her holding pitchforks and torches, and the air around them quivered with angry voices. Caila found herself in the role of a spectator and could watch everything like a movie. She raised her head to the pyre they were all standing in front of.

Zenobe was tied to the pyre. She wore a plain brown dress, her hair was pure black, and she looked younger and more human than Caila knew her now. "Burn the witch! Burn her black soul! Evil resides within her!" Cries went up through the crowd.

Caila walked closer to the pyre and was a little surprised by the scene. Where was it anyway? Why did it look familiar to her?

"I didn't do anything! I was trying to help you! Let me go!" Zenobe struggled and screamed in panic. The elderly man with torch came to the pyre and looked at the chained Zenobe with hatred in his eyes. "Help? People died under your care! Your malevolent tinctures have taken their lives! You are an evil and cruel witch!"

Zenobe gritted her teeth. "They were sick! The Black Death is lurking through your filthy village! I tried to cure them, or at least ease their pain! It wasn't me who killed them!" She defended herself, watching with wide-eyed horror as the man disobeyed her and lit the pyre on fire.

"No! Don't do that!" Zenobe screamed as tears of fear began to flow from her eyes. The pyre easily ignited, and flames began to surround her bound body. She felt heat on her skin and acrid smoke entered her nose and mouth, making her cough.

"Curse you! You are murderers and fools! I hope the Black Death takes you all, and you die in pain!" She shouted with hatred and fear, her voice quickly breaking into a plea. "No, please! I don't want to die! Someone save me! Save me!"

Zenobe pleas turned to screams moments later as the first flames touched her body and began to burn her skin and flesh. Caila watched the scene of burning in horror, looked at the villagers waving their weapons, and saw the joy, excitement, and madness in their eyes.

Caila didn't feel very well, but she turned and looked at Zenobe again; the clothes on her body were burning, the flesh was blackening, her hair was flaming, and she soon began to look like a blackened corpse, but the worst part was that she was still alive. Her screams turned into unintelligible grunts.

It looked like her ordeal would finally come to an end when a blue light flashed in the flames, and a small, tiny blue flame appeared in front of her. Caila walked closer and focused on the flame that was her predecessor, trying not to look at Zenobe's burnt body.

"I hear your call, Unwanted. This world and its people reject you and kill you. Your good intentions have been tarnished and trampled upon. Your destiny does not lie here, and I can save you. Will you follow me?" Came a low voice from the blue flame that seemed stronger and larger than when Caila had seen it before.

Zenobe must have responded in some way because her burnt body was suddenly surrounded by a swirl of blue flames, and she disappeared from the pyre, along with the blue flame. A terrified scream echoed through the crowd, and the entire scene faded.

Caila once again found herself in darkness surrounded by scenes in bubbles. Caila thought, "So this was how the last god had gained her followers? Did she find those who were in need and offer them help?" Caila found it very effective.

She noticed that a faint line of light stretched from the memory she had just seen, connecting it to another memory. Did that mean it was somehow connected? She walked over to the next memory and touched it.

This time, she found herself in a burning village. Caila saw Zenobe, who already looked like the one she had seen in the throne room. Her black hair shone with reflections of cyan, her smile revealed sharp teeth, and she rode slowly on the backs of two monstrous snakes that raced through the streets of the devastated and burning village.

"Hohoho!" Zenobe laughed wildly while a flame appeared in her hands, which she threw at another house that immediately started burning. A woman rushed out of the house with a child in her arms, and right behind her, a man with an axe in his hand rushed towards Zenobe.

"Die, monster!" The man shouted, but Zenobe held out her hand in which a bottle appeared, and she threw it at the man. The bottle shattered, coating the man in a yellow, stinking liquid. The man stopped and began to scream as his skin began to melt, revealing the flesh underneath that was quickly rotting and falling off. The man collapsed to the ground and jerked in agony, his body melting at a rapid rate until only crumbling bleached bones remained.

Zenobe turned to the terrified woman with the child in her arms. "'Mercy! Have mercy!" she cried desperately, but Zenobe kept smiling.

"You hyenas with human faces! You had mercy on me?" She said, throwing the flame from her hand at her. The woman burst into flames like a torch along with her offspring and was burned to the coals.

Zenobe raced through the village killing everyone; she had no mercy on anyone, not even sparing the animals. When it was done, she stood in the middle of the burning village and had a peaceful look on her face.

"It is finished, my Liege. Revenge does taste sweet." Zenobe said, and a blue flame rose up beside her in which a small figure appeared shrouded. Caila was surprised. A child?

The shrouded little figure looked around and nodded, then stretched her arms above her head, and tiny lights began to float towards her from various places in the village. Caila saw a tiny light rise from a nearby burnt remains and dart towards the small figure, sending it flying into her palm.

"What's she doing? Is she collecting the souls of the dead?" Caila muttered in confusion. The whole scene made her uneasy. What was the previous god really like?

After the former god finished her work, both she and Zenobe disappeared from the place. Caila reappeared in the place with memories. She couldn't make up her mind now. At one point, the previous god seemed quite benevolent. Sure, he had used the troubles of others to gain followers, but otherwise he had helped Zenobe. The second scene, however, again made her feel like he was an evil god. She had an entire village slaughtered even though it was obviously to avenge Zenobe, but then took the souls of all those killed.

After a while, she decided not to dwell on it. Caila didn't understand too many things. Instead, she moved away from Zenobe's consciousness and focused her attention on Lambert. She touched his prayer.

Peril Harbor

Hellcage, Marik, and the children stood on the platform, waiting for the transport vehicle. Hellcage insisted that they not walk and wanted to try out this human convenience that intrigued him.

Peril Harbor was crisscrossed with chain-linked drays, which were used not only to move goods to various points in the city but also as passenger transport. It was more convenient than making your way through the narrow streets of the city and making yourself a target for local criminals, gangs, and deviants.

Of course, it also cost money. Marik opened his all-too-thin wallet and examined the coins he had left. The coins didn't look pretty; they were basically made of old scrap metal that had different values and were called Sliks. The highest value was the Ten Sliks, which was equal to two Five Shlikes or ten One Sliks.

Marik also knew that there were Sliks worth fifty and one hundred, but such values were mostly among the rich and were more likely to be used in trading.

No one even considered using anything else to create money, as things like paper or actual ores were too valuable to use for something like currency production. So they used waste that couldn't be used any other way and determined the value just by stamping a number on it. Naturally, to avoid the possibility of counterfeiting, each coin had a special engraving that was not easy to copy, but it made the coins look ugly, as if a child had scribbled on them.

Clink Clink

There was a high-pitched clinking sound, and Marik looked up to see the approaching rig. The transport cabin remotely resembled a fish, made of a combination of wood and metal. The cabin had two levels, with the bottom one completely covered and the top one glassed in to allow light to flow in and passengers to look out. At the bottom of the cab were many wheels and gears that fitted into a chain track as they turned, moving the whole machine forward.

"Interesting indeed!" Hellcage exclaimed, inspecting the machine, and Marik could only sigh. The old monster was much more enthusiastic than the children!

The transport craft came to a stop, and the side wall slid away to allow a folding ramp to slide down for people to get off and others to get on.

Marik went ahead and paid for the tickets. He paid three Sliks for three tickets; two children counted as one adult.

They made their way upstairs, where they sat on the hard benches. Marik naturally left seats by the glass for the more enthusiastic. After everyone had boarded, the rig clanked again, the doors closed, and it began moving. Marik's stomach lurched uncomfortably, and he looked away from the view. He much preferred the sea.

Hellcage and the kids watched through the glass as the rig lifted them into the air and moved them along the chain tracks. Marik just listened to their mutterings and looked at the ground.

The copper pipe in the cabin rattled as an annoyed voice came from it. "Next station, Lower North District, streets 7 to 15, Third Boss territory. Transfer to the route to Lower East and West District." Marik listened to the announcement and frowned. He realized one problem. Where were they actually going?

"Hellcage, where do you want go?" He asked, daring to look in his direction.

"Somewhere relatively quiet, rundown, and not very safe," Hellcage replied, and Marik got the impression that it could easily be any place here.

Hellcage turned suddenly and looked at the seat behind them, where the young man was frozen in surprise. "Would you recommend a place like that? If you answer, I won't break all your fingers for trying to pick my pocket," he said calmly.

The young man's brow sweated a little, and he smiled. "Haha. Sure. Certainly, my dear sir. A place like the one you describe sounds like the Lower West District between 17th and 35th Street. It's rather deserted there, anyone who might have moved out because of the serial killer spree."

Hellcage stared at the boy. "A serial killer?" He repeated.

"Yes. Yes. An ugly affair. It's not as if murders don't happen all the time, but he took out almost an entire street in one week," said the young man, not seeming to care.

Marik didn't even bother to ask why someone wasn't doing something about it. He had some doubts if there were any law enforcers at all.

"Marvelous. That sounds perfect. Let's go there," Hellcage said, turning to Marik.

The young man behind him gave Hellcage a strange look.

It took them some time to reach the place the young man had mentioned, and it felt like they were in a completely different city. While there were people everywhere, this street seemed strangely quiet. The houses were mostly constructed from wood and bore clear signs of being repurposed from ships. Some of the houses still had masts or balconies that resembled pieces of a ship's deck, complete with railings. One house even had an extension that looked like half of a ship; they hadn't tried to dismantle it but had incorporated it into the entire structure.

A few people passed by, but their footsteps were quick as they tried to get away as fast as possible. Despite the fact that this city had its share of crime, even criminals didn't want to risk an encounter with a crazed killer.

Marik glanced around uncertainly, looking at the boarded-up houses. He had no idea which ones were inhabited and which ones were empty or hiding the sight of another murder.

"Hellcage, are you sure you want to settle here? Won't we be more conspicuous? People are running away from here, not moving in."

Hellcage didn't look at Marik and calmly strode forward, his walking cane making a quiet thud as it hit the wooden floor.

"I wouldn't say that, little admirer," he said, and Marik sighed. He was getting used to Hellcage calling him an admirer, especially when he was nonchalantly lecturing him.

"Since no one solves murders here, it means no one pays attention to the place. They even avoid the area as much as possible. So, for a start, it's an ideal place for us to settle down." Hellcage looked at the houses, considering which one to occupy.

Marik observed the two children walking hand in hand behind Hellcage and felt like they were a little more alive. They seemed to prefer less populated places.

"What if the killer comes?" he asked casually, but he wasn't worried. Even those kids could handle a regular assassin without any problems.

"Just let him come. I'd be quite interested in someone who's so passionate about their hobby," Hellcage laughed, but Marik thought he heard a hint of menace in his voice.

Their little parade continued down the street, occasionally turning until Hellcage stopped and examined the street signs.

"Hmm... here. 22nd Street," he said firmly. Marik looked and was relieved that Hellcage had finally made up his mind because it was getting dark, and he'd be glad if they could settle down for the night.

"Alright. Which house?" Marik asked. Hellcage didn't answer but instead headed for one that had three floors, a patrol basket on the roof, and a lamp outside the door that was different from the others, adorned with pictures of flowers.

Hellcage glanced at the opposite house for a moment before opening the one he had chosen. "This one," he decided and walked in. Everyone followed him inside to inspect the abandoned house. Judging by how little was left, the owners had left very quickly, leaving behind only heavy furniture they couldn't carry. Behind the door was a small hall that led to an open lounge area and another that led to the dining room and kitchen, while stairs led from the hall to the second floor.

Hellcage looked around and nodded his head. "This should be enough to get you started. The upper floors will be bedrooms, and we'll convert the entire lower floor into a gathering place and build a proper altar to our Liege." Hellcage touched his chest and straightened his back. "I can almost see it in my mind's eye, how our brothers and sisters will be here discussing the greatness of our God, bowing, and praying at her altar."

Marik surveyed the place, and all he could see was that it needed cleaning first.

"Haaa... Haaa... uuuu... no... no..."

Painful moans echoed in the dimly lit room as the young woman crawled on the floor, trying to escape toward the door.

The cloaked man in black slowly walked over to her and kicked her body back into place, into the circle formed by the red candles.

The woman coughed up a mouthful of blood, but there were no injuries on her body. Only the blood dripping from her mouth, eyes, nose, and ears indicated that she had some internal injuries.

The young woman shuddered and tried to roll over, but her gaze fixed on one of the candle flames, and gradually she stopped moving before she breathed her last.

The cloaked man watched her for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crystal set in a golden frame the size of his palm. He moved to the woman's body and placed the crystal on her chest, half-voicedly beginning to recite in an unknown language.

Finally, he ended his words with the now intelligible phrase, "You sow, and I harvest." The woman's skin suddenly began to rapidly lose its color and moisture, as if some unknown force had instantly mummified her, and the crystal on her body began to fill with a light green liquid.

When the body looked like an ancient desiccated mummy, he picked up the crystal and examined it. "Not even half," the man clicked his tongue in displeasure and began to clean up the scene. He flinched when he suddenly heard some noises from outside.

He threw himself to the side and peered cautiously out the window. He felt a little relieved and focused intensely on the two small children who were entering the house across the street with the two men. He stared at the crystal in his hand and then looked again at the opposite house while he planned in his head how to proceed.

In the middle of the night, a cloaked figure had appeared in the street and had walked unhurriedly to the door of one of the houses. As the figure approached, a lantern with pictures of flowers blinked several times and then went out. A moment later, the lantern had lit up again, and the cloaked figure was gone.

The darkened house had been silent, with muffled snoring coming from one of the rooms on the second floor where a tired Marik had slept.

The dark figure had paused for a moment at the door leading to Marik's room but had then continued on, stopping at another door. The door had opened inaudibly, and the figure had slipped into the room, and just as inaudibly, the door had closed again.

At the same moment, another very tall figure in a high top hat had stepped out of the shadows and had stood motionless in front of the closed door.

The killer who had entered the children's bedroom had slowly turned towards the room and had seen the two beds in which the children had been resting. He had moved his hand slowly, and the light entering the room through the window had reflected off the shiny surface of the long dagger. He had jerked his other hand forward and had tossed the powder into the air, muttering a few words that sounded like incantations, and then without fear or haste, he had walked over to the bed of the youngest of the children.

The girl with the flowing almost white hair had rested peacefully on her back with the blanket pulled up to her neck, her long lashes resting on her delicate baby face as her eyes had been closed. The killer had carefully placed the crystal on her body and had then raised his knife hand in the air and had struck down sharply.

The blade of the dagger had pierced the blanket easily and had met with resistance as the blade had penetrated the body. The man had immediately glanced at the crystal and had begun to silently recite an incantation, but after a moment, he had fallen silent in confusion when he had seen that nothing was happening.

Clank, Clank, Clank

There had been a sound behind him that had resembled the stacking of wooden blocks, and he had quickly turned around. A muffled cry of surprise had escaped the killers lips, and he had darted away towards the wall, seeing the terrifying creature behind him.

It had been approaching him on two human legs, its chest spread wide open with razor-sharp bones sticking out for all to see, its black, shriveled heart beating loudly. The creature had looked like a completely bare branching bush of bones, with the human head hanging sideways and red eyes staring at it with a look of hatred.

"You touched my sister...." said the head.

The killer's eyes had quickly looked towards the other bed, where the girl had sat up, a knife stuck in her chest. She had hesitantly touched it and then had turned her head towards him, gone was her cute childlike appearance, and now a mangled horrifying doll with white skin and blood-red eyes had been staring at him.

"Cursed creatures..." hissed the killer, who had already recovered from his first startle.

Immediately, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a stoppered bottle, which he thumbed and began to say prayers quietly to himself, making unknown signs with his free hand in front of his chest.

"You touched Dali!" Leo said angrily, his crooked head hanging wildly as he lunged forward toward the man.

"'Repel!" The man said loudly, and a glyph flashed in the air in front of him and flew forward, colliding with Leo, who flinched and stopped, his body shaking in a way that sounded like dry branches rattling in the wind.

"Brother..." Dali said worriedly and got down on the ground as she rushed to her brother. The assassin threw his hand again, this time throwing a vial of liquid in their direction. Leo, who saw this immediately, put one of his hands together and pushed Dali to the side, so that the liquid only hit him.

"Ah..." Leo breathed out in surprise as he felt wherever the liquid touched, it started to sting and smoke, with an awful smell beginning to waft into the air. "That stings." Leo wondered, more in surprise than pain.

"Damned creatures, get the hell back where you belong," the killer cursed them, while his hand made a new mark in the air.

Dali turned her head sharply towards him, and her body was thrown in his direction as if she had been thrown, her fingers bending into the shape of claws. The killer interrupted the making of the mark and threw himself to the side. Dali hit the wall, and her hands punched holes in the wall with a dull sound.

Dali bounced off the wall and lunged again towards the killer, who again reached into his pocket and this time threw another handful of powder in her direction. He made a quick motion with his hands and sang again. "'Ignite!"

The powder that had touched Dali's body immediately ignited and started burning, but what the assassin hadn't counted on was that Dali wasn't afraid of fire and hadn't deviated from her intentions. Her small hands dug into the man's stomach, and blood spurted out. "Agrrh!" The man cried out in pain, striking Dali away from him. Dali hit the ground like a mindless doll but immediately started to get back to her feet.

The killer staggered backward and pressed his hand to his wound, then felt someone's hand supporting him. He looked back only to see a tall man in a top hat behind him with his hand on his shoulder. "It seems you children are not ready for a real fight yet. But it really wasn't bad for a first try," said Hellcage commendably. Leo, who was moving a little stiffly, walked over to his sister to help her put out the flames on her dress and hair.

"And you, sir. You have a lot to say to me," Hellcage spoke to the killer, who was frozen in place. The killer's eyes reflected many red irises before his mind went black.

When the Killer regained consciousness, the first thing he felt was a strange sense of lightness. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the room before him swaying slightly. No, it wasn't the room that was swaying; it was him.

He jerked his head up and looked around. Finding himself hanging from a rope that was attached to a beam near the ceiling, he tried to move, but he couldn't feel his body from the neck down.

Out of the shadows stepped a tall man that the Killer vaguely remembered. "You're awake. Good. Now answer my questions," Hellcage said calmly.

The man's brow furrowed in horror. "And then you'll let me go?" he asked cautiously in a hoarse voice.

Hellcage cocked his head to the side curiously. "Let you go? No, but I will end your current suffering."

The killer swallowed loudly. "Then... then I won't answer. Not until you guarantee that I can leave." He negotiated terms.

Hellcage laughed and pointed his walking cane at him. "And how would you like to leave? Look at yourself."

The killer was afraid to look after saying that, but eventually did so. He put his head down and stared for a moment, uncomprehending, before a hysterical laugh escaped his throat. "Heehehe hahaha...."

With what was left of him, he couldn't even be considered human anymore, but rather just a reanimated corpse. His arms and legs were missing; from the waist down, there was nothing but torn flesh and oozing entrails that left a disgusting mess underneath. It was a wonder how he could even be alive. The killer hoped he had gone mad, but to his misfortune, his mind remained perfectly clear.

"As you can see, you are completely incapable of anything but replying. If you do it right, it will continue to be quick for you," Hellcage said, pulling up a chair to sit on. He didn't really have much time either; he had to get this done before their snoring captain woke up; his delicate soul wasn't ready for such a scene.

"Now... Hey, hey, focus, Mr. Killer," Hellcage snapped his fingers to get the dazed man's attention. "Now tell me what this thing is for and what you were trying to do," Hellcage said as he held up the strange crystal object the killer had brought with him.

The killer's eyes glazed over as he stared at the subject for a moment before responding. "This was *Prana. A vessel for storing life energy. Using the ritual, we could extract all the life energy from the newly deceased," he explained.

Hellcage looked at the crystal and noticed that it was only half filled with a light green liquid. Is this supposed to represent life energy? Isn't that a little low?

"What did you want it for?" Hellcage inquired next.

"It wasn't for me, but for our Leader," he replied, and Hellcage looked at him curiously. "So you were from an organization? What was that organization? What was its goal? How many members did you have? What God did you serve?"

The killer's eyes began to fall, but he quickly raised them because he didn't want to see the state of his body again. "I didn't know exactly how many members we had, but I'd say quite a few. We served the God of Harvest and Plants," the killer fell silent.

Hellcage reached out and poked him with his walking cane, causing the killer on the rope to sway. "Answer the other questions as well."

The killer's lips quivered. "No! I will not betray my Order!" he cried.

Hellcage stared at them for a moment and stood up. "Very well. I guess we're done then." He stood next to the man and placed a hand on his head. It liquefied and began to cover the man's head and torso. The killer's gaze bulged in fear, but he didn't call for any washing.

"My lord welcomes me to his kingdom!" In a moment, the torso was covered in a black liquid in which many red dots flickered, then began to shrink into a small sphere, which Hellcage took in his hand and planted in his body.

Hellcage didn't continue his interrogation even though he could have; he could tell that the man's mind was getting too messed up, and it was hard to tell if he would get any more reliable information out of him.

Hellcage then picked up the crystal and examined it. "Prana, huh? God of Harvest and Plants, what kind of disgusting thing were you up to?"

Hellcage thought for a moment before pocketing the crystal and surveying the mess. He would have to clean this place up; it was a room Marik had already cleaned, and Hellcage had a feeling it would ruin the little admirer's whole day if he made him clean it up again.

SalivaSpittingWorm

*Prana is a Sanskrit word and means breath. It is derived from the root prá, to fill or flow. According to Hindu mythology, prana represents all the streams of vital life energy together ("absolute energy")