Outside the tent, the rain is coming down in sheets, threatening to rip every plant from the mountainside and wash away all the soil.
The followers of the Scarlet Revelation are huddled inside the tent, watching the deluge with growing anxiety.
How can the rain be this heavy...
Worriedly, Grace kneads the linen pouch filled with rune pebbles and silently asks, "When will the rain stop?" After a moment's deliberation, she pulls out the first pebble her fingers touch.
It's a wooden rune, representing the letter "H."
Hail...
Delay, restriction, termination... This isn't exactly a stellar divination result.
When you're powerless to change your circumstances, all you can do is put your faith in belief. Even though Grace wasn't initially good at divination, she's really gotten the hang of it over time.
God... please guide us.
Our supplies are running low, and the seeds we just planted have been completely washed away by the rain... God, please guide us and show us the way forward.
Grace closes her eyes and murmurs a prayer for a moment before picking up the linen pouch again. After a quick shake, she lays the bag flat on the table and draws out another rune.
This time, it's a rune carved right out of a stone. In a world like this, she's simply out of luck when it comes to getting a complete set of matching stone or wooden divination tools.
It represents the letter "N"—restriction, necessity, peril...
Sigh...
Grace knits her brows together as she gathers up all the rune pebbles.
Lady Revelationist... has God granted us new orders?
Noticing Grace tucking away her runes, the followers swarm her, desperate for the reassurance they crave: The rain will let up soon, and they will definitely make it through this.
Looking at their drawn, hungry faces, Grace steels herself and trots out her usual speech yet again.
God says we must endure. Our current hardships are a test, and afterward, we will surely overcome these difficulties...
One pack of rations, two packs, two and a half packs, two point seven packs...
...God says, as long as we endure through this time...
...Four cans, four and a half, four point eight cans...
...Smoker!
Oh! Lady Revelationist, do you need something?
The middle-aged man hustles back inside from the downpour, his makeshift tarp practically drenched.
Do you seriously need to be counting cans right now?! And how in the world did you end up with four point eight cans?!
Whoa, whoa, I didn't sneak any for myself!
That half a can was from when little Owen got sick, and I mixed it with rations to make him some porridge. The other 0.3 can? That was two days ago, when Zoey was at death's door with a mild Punishing Virus infection...
His voice catches as he blows his nose loudly.
She was on her way out, and you told me to make her comfortable, so I gave her two-thirds of a can.
...Is this really all we have left?
Yeah, that's all... and we got them last month by waiting in line for relief aid outside a conservation area we passed by.
But now... who knows when those conservation areas will hand out supplies again. They probably don't have enough to go around for themselves...
...Sigh.
Grace sighs again, having lost count of how many times she's done so today.
When... will the rain stop?
Outside the tent, a few devotees huddle close, mumbling passages from the Scarlet Revelation doctrines scrawled on tattered paper.
They skip right over the chapters on "catastrophe" and "curse," instead murmuring about "confession," "supplication," and "redemption" over and over.
"I have nothing left to rely on, nothing left to ask for, as long as I can find salvation..."
"O God, I praise Your holy name, prostrate at Your feet..."
"God shall create paradise, God shall grant eternal life through the Red Tide..."
Thunder crashes overhead.
What a goddamn disaster. How can it be raining this heavily?
The long-haired Construct continues her loud cursing, tossing her makeshift rain poncho carelessly onto the ground.
The followers inside the tent grumble under their breath, careful not to let the long-haired woman hear them.
Lulu, you're back... How was the haul?
If you can even call this a "haul."
She roughly tosses a rain-soaked package onto the ground beside Grace.
The package spills open, revealing just two rolls of bandages, an unopened can of fruit, a bag of food that looks like it's been stored since the dawn of time, and a measly handful of rice grains.
Here's the "fruit" of your "divination."
The long-haired woman takes a deep breath, clearly biting back a string of curses. After pulling herself together for a moment, she speaks again.
I found my way to the spot you mentioned, right on the edge of the ruins. What a bust, though, just a tiny refugee camp, already swallowed whole by the Red Tide.
Seriously, I waded through hell and high water battling Corrupted and those nasty, clingy Hetero-Creatures just to drag back this pathetic haul.
And your divination didn't exactly clue us in on this downpour, did it? My gun nearly jammed because of it!
Still grumbling, Lulu plops down beside Grace, deftly pulling out her tools to dismantle the gun that serves as her "arm."
...Thanks for everything, Lulu. At least we'll have something to eat tonight.
Heh, as long as you appreciate my suffering.
The female Construct lets out a derisive snort, then goes back to tinkering with her "arm."
Soon, a metal pot is bubbling over a crackling campfire.
The scent of the old rations isn't exactly gourmet, but it's not awful either. Maybe it's that extra 0.3 can of preserved food—whatever the reason, everyone seems unusually stoked for dinner tonight.
O God of the Red Tide, we thank you for providing us with food...
Before digging in, the followers drone their usual prayers.
...Tch, thanking the Red Tide for what? You should be thanking me!
...Thank you for your guidance, for letting us live to see the sun of another day...
Hah, with this downpour, who knows if we'll even catch a glimpse of the sun tomorrow... Hey, why are you pulling me?
The person disrupting the prayer gets yanked aside, letting the rest of the followers get on with their devotions.
Tch, wasn't I telling the truth?
That's not it. Didn't you want to tell me something in private?
When Lulu sat down beside her, hesitating several times as if wanting to speak, Grace already saw through her intention.
Well, I'm not sure if this is a good idea or a bad one, but...
Lulu pulls a tattered piece of paper from a waterproof pocket at her waist. She hesitates for a moment before finally handing it over to Grace.
This thing might have been left behind by some of your Red Tide folks.
It's the Scarlet Revelation.
Grace corrects Lulu's odd choice of words while taking the paper from her.
Is this... some kind of invitation?
So, it's an invitation for the Scarlet Revelation members to check out the Copperfield Aquarium. Apparently, once you pass the test and hit "that place by the sea," you'll "be reborn in the Red Tide."
This just doesn't look on the up and up.
Did one of your folks leave this behind?
...I'm not sure. I haven't been in contact with other Revelationists for a long time, but this marking... It was definitely left by a Revelationist I know.
Grace runs her fingers over the paper, a sense of unease washing over her.
The refugee camp might be where that Revelationist once stayed, now already swallowed by the Red Tide. Then...
Has that Revelationist already been granted "salvation," or... have they moved on to face the "test"?
So, should we head over there?
Huh? Wait, are you serious? You're asking me?
Well, if you're putting me on the spot, I guess we could give it a look.
There's barely anything left here, and no conservation areas close by. We can't even try to scavenge for food from... those folks in Babylonia. If we stick around, we're going to starve, plain and simple.
I've scoured every nook and cranny nearby, but there's not a single usable replacement part to be found. Once this downpour utterly ruins me, we can just hold hands and step into that "salvation" you mentioned, together.
Lulu lets out a couple of dry laughs.
What do you think? Aren't you good at divination? Why don't you try reading the signs?
I...
Grace nervously fiddles with her linen pouch, torn about doing another divination. Lately, every reading has been a bust.
Oh, one more thing...
Before she can finish speaking, a sharp pop cuts her off—the dim yellow bulb inside the tent flickers and dies. Grace jerks in surprise, the linen pouch slipping from her grasp. Rune pebbles clatter across the ground, scattering into the shadows.
Hah, that's what I was getting at.
When I got back, I saw the generator—which was working perfectly fine before—was trashed by the Corrupted. I tried to fix it, but no dice. One of the screws is glowing red hot.
Looks like this camp's going to be off the grid from now on.
...
Grace crouches low, her thoughts a jumbled mess.
Should they head for the coast and face whatever test comes their way?
Hey—! Don't think you can sneak around in the dark stealing canned food, you brats!
Smoker's booming voice cuts through the darkness. The tiny, mouse-like rustling stops dead in its tracks.
Stay away from those supply crates! Back off, back off! Listen up! Those who steal food will never enter the Red Tide and be reborn!
No stealing meat cans, and absolutely NO stealing fruit cans!
Scattered footsteps echo as the children jostle and shove each other, putting distance between themselves and the crates.
One pack of rations, two packs of rations, two and a half packs of rations, two point seven packs... No rations consumed today, praise be to the God of Red Tide...
****.
...Four cans, four and a half cans...
Ugh, had to use another third of a can to feed those insatiable locusts. Only four cans left, and the rain washed away all our newly planted crops...
Sigh.
Smoker sighs heavily, completely missing Grace and Lulu as they huddle behind the supply crates. He finishes his inventory count and steps out of the tent.
Should they... go to the seaside? Grace fumbles around in the darkness and accidentally touches the first rune on the ground...
R—carriage, travel, and all your dealings will pan out in your favor.
...
Hey, why do you suddenly look like you've had some huge realization?
It's nothing. The divine has already given me the answer.
Grace lets out a huge sigh of relief. In the glow of the torch Lulu finally got lit, Grace gathers up all the rune pebbles.
Fine, whatever floats your boat.
The campfire flares back to life. Grace stands by the flames, facing her anxious followers, the faint light dancing in her eyes.
Everyone, God has shown us the path forward.
I've just received a new divine revelation.
Thank goodness, Lady Revelationist...
God has bestowed upon us a new test.
In the firelight, the "Scarlet Revelation" emblem on the worn letter stands out prominently.
She tosses the letter into the campfire just as the wind whips through the tent. The flames swallow the paper, and sparkling crimson embers, breaking free, suddenly shoot skyward.
We'll set out for the seaside to face this divine test.
If we pass this test, we... will enter "rebirth."
"O God, I praise Your holy name, prostrate at Your feet..."
"God shall create paradise, God shall grant eternal life through the Red Tide..."
Prostrate on the ground, the followers murmur the doctrines of the Scarlet Revelation. Then, with a flurry of activity, they start taking stock of their meager supplies, preparing for the journey ahead.
Grace stands in the center of the tent, her fingers idly toying with the linen pouch that holds her rune pebbles. She simply doesn't dare perform another divination, fearing yet another unfavorable outcome.
She can only pin her hopes on what's to come...
R—carriage, travel, and all your dealings will pan out in your favor.
Maybe there really is "new hope" on the horizon.
Clinging to this pipe dream, Grace follows the old map, leading her band of Scarlet Revelation followers toward the Copperfield Aquarium.
That place where people supposedly find "rebirth."
