The mad king’s hand is drenched in the blood of a second sacrifice.
The mad king has torn out the heart of a second martyr. He holds it up high and bathes in the blood that streams down. Even as he does this, his free hand moves among the threads, dragging them from the highest place to the lowest, hiding them from the view of the people and the view of the Sun God.
The mad king known as the Administrator has taken his second life. He stands in the fountain of blood, drinking it in. But despite his sacrifice, the gods have forsaken him. For the endless repeating sound at the edge of his hearing has grown louder and more frequent. He had hoped in his madness to escape it, even as he should have known escape was impossible.
More insistent, faster, the sound continues.
-fragment recovered by a recent archeological expedition