Rites

Battle of the Mind X

True battles unfold within...

Having passed through that door, what did you expect to find?

Since that day, you've fruitlessly searched for more visions, more power, more supernatural guidance, all without success.

That door must have significance, but where can you find it again?

Today, you resolve to focus your entire consciousness on exploring the spiritual realm, to try once more...

ID: 5004827

Type: Enemy

Tips: None

Duration: 1 days

Waits For: 3 days

Marked as New Only on First Occurrence: 0

Starts Automatically: No

Triggers Result Automatically: No

Tag Tips: None

Tag Tips Up: None

Tag Tips Text:

Random Text: None

Random Text Up: None

Actions When Wait Expires

Action:

Slots

Slot #3
Your Own Thoughts

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: No

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Slot #4
Your rationality can help, if you possess it

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: Yes

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

  • Type = Item
  • Card = Rationality
  • Tag (Consumable) Costs = 1
  • Not Slot #5 = 1
  • Not Slot #6 = 1
  • Not Slot #7 = 1
  • Not Slot #8 = 1

Pops: None

Slot #6
Bloodshed Card

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: Yes

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Slot #7
A powerful weapon

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: Yes

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

  • Type = Item
  • Tag (Weapon) = 1
  • Rarity = Gold

Pops: None

Slot #8
Can books solve your problem?

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: Yes

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Activation Conditions

This rite has no activation conditions.

Outcome

Prior

This rite has no prior outcome.

Regular

Void Terror
You've repeatedly opened that door within your consciousness.

Nothing happens.

The mundane grayness of reality extends on both sides, and neither you nor any part of you feels elevated.

Suddenly, something catches your attention. You rush eagerly to investigate...

A vast hole - bottomless and endless - lies just beyond the door. You swear you've never seen anything like this before; it exists neither in your imagination nor your memory...

A strange attraction pulls you forward. You crawl over, peering inside...

It's filled with your own broken corpses. You burned, dismembered, beheaded, poisoned... All the versions of you who died in countless cycles of the Sultan's Game, buried here...

They reach up, grabbing at your throat, wanting you to join them in death.

You wake trembling, drenched in sweat, lips blue, palms bloody from your own nails. Now you cannot face any "holes" - even pastries with centers terrify you. You're especially frightened by people's ears and nostrils, ordering everyone in your household to cover these openings - stuffing your own with cotton, opening your mouth to breathe, asking people to write instead of speak.

"The master has gone mad playing the Sultan's Game," people say throughout the city.

Conditions:

Result:

Action:

Lost Path
You foolishly seek to resolve your spiritual crisis through the absurd gods of the cultists.

You pray, plead, beg... only to be answered by cold laughter from the darkness.

Perhaps you still need to prove your worth to the chaotic gods.

Conditions:

Result:

Action:

Impurity
You attempt to resolve your inner conflict through the god will of the Purist...

A white light surges into your mind, piercing your spine and triggering waves of agony - this is the Purist's response to your prayer -

"You are unworthy," says the pain. "Think again, consider what you could do for the Purist."

It "helps" you ponder for quite some time before gradually subsiding.

Conditions:

Result:

Action:

Dream Butterfly
The realization came to you in a dream.

In that dream, you were surrounded by darkness, instinctively climbing upward through a cocoon. Breaking through an opening, you encountered light - you unfurled damp wings, letting them dry in the gentle breeze before taking flight, joining countless other butterflies. As evening approached and the air cooled, you settled on a saffron petal, calmly thinking: a butterfly's life is nearly complete.

You awoke suddenly as a servant brought your water pipe, its smoke infused with saffron spice curling through the room.

Understanding dawned - passing through the door was like being a butterfly dreaming it was human; remaining on this side was like being human dreaming of butterfly form.

Conditions:

Result:

Action:

Ture Dream
You had a dream.

Morning came, and you woke to fragrant air as your maid brought strong tea and breakfast to your bedroom. Maggie chatted casually with you as you ate, discussing last night's dreams.

Together you walked to the sitting room where her personal maid waited, having prepared your day's attire. While Maggie applied cosmetics and arranged her hair, you gazed absently through the window at your beautiful garden, meticulously maintained, where birds shook morning dew from their feathers, creating tiny rainbows.

Then you visited your territory together. You checked the harvest, spoke with representatives of your people; you proposed building stone roads, receiving eager support, with merchant guilds voluntarily offering financial backing.

Afterward, you returned home. Dinner was sumptuous, dancers performed, your friends played drums and sang. The wine rivaled anything in the Sultan's cellars...

The Sultan? Yes... weren't you playing the Sultan's Game?

The moment your thoughts touched "the Sultan's Game," you awoke. You remained in bed, the game's countdown continuing.

How long since you'd experienced such a pure, gentle dream? Not requiring supernatural satisfaction, grand miracles or blessings - just living slowly, enjoying peacefully, finding contentment...

This dream was the world's answer: having crossed that threshold, you could no longer be viewed as an ordinary human; consequently, you could no longer possess a simple life. When immersed in such existence, you never treasured it - now, you couldn't help but weep.

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Action:

Carousel Dream
You had a dream.

In it, you stood alone in a dark garden unlike any you'd seen - devoid of plants but filled with strange structures. You rode a wooden horse, joining dozens of others moving up and down while circling a central point.

The horses' mouths emitted intermittent music, an unfamiliar melody resembling both a lullaby and cultists' summoning chants...

Everything remained shrouded in darkness, occasionally illuminated by strange flashing lights outlining unfamiliar symbols... The air smelled sweetly of honey and grain. Lost and confused, you wondered how long these crudely painted wooden horses would continue circling. Just as you prepared to jump off...

The horse broke free from its pole. Without mechanical assistance, its stiff legs awkwardly extending, it carried you into the darkness. You screamed for help, struggled desperately, but your legs seemed trapped in the stirrups...

You jolted awake, terrified.

This dream was the world's answer: having crossed that threshold, you could never again be considered merely human. The horse beneath you represents your power, uncontrollable, carrying you into unfathomable darkness.

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Action:

Murderer's Dream
You had a dream.

In it, you stood surrounded by corpses - all your victims, as you well knew.

You wandered among them, carefully recalling each killing. When memories failed, you tapped a corpse's shoulder, gesturing it to rise and reenact its death.

You witnessed a beautiful woman pushed from a cliff by your hand.

You saw an aged man forced into a lake at your command.

You watched a young child begging you for mercy.

You observed faithful servants refusing to believe you'd harm them.

Walking onward, the reanimated corpses followed in a procession as you crossed the threshold.

Looking back, they had vanished.

You awoke.

This dream foretold your future. How much blood has already stained your journey beyond the door? And what price will crossing the next threshold demand?

The meaning of crossing matters less than the truth: a murderer must continue killing.

Conditions:

Result:

Action:

Sword Dream
You had a dream.

In it, you were a sword, wielded by a hero on the battlefield. You cleaved countless skulls before your bearer was struck down and you fell to the ground.

Seasons passed while you waited with countless remains. Daily, thin layers of dust settled upon you until you were buried completely. Resting against the hero's skull, tangled in his dried hair, weeds, shrubs, and trees grew above you... You were entirely forgotten.

Countless years later, someone excavated the land—a pioneering farmer's family, driven from their home, seeking survival on the barren ancient battlefield. A child pulled you from the soil. You expected the child to wield you, to kill—but after examining your damaged form, the child simply tossed you into a bucket.

You were taken to a blacksmith.

Your ornate decorations vanished, gold filigree carefully scraped away as payment for your reforging. Your blade became unnecessary, your guard superfluous—only your steel mattered now...

You were reforged into a hoe.

The farmer's child used you to till the earth. Too heavy for the child now, but soon they would grow, and you would become a perfectly balanced tool in their hands.

You awoke.

This dream revealed the world's answer: beyond that door, you might be reforged, your edge wielded by others; yet you remain yourself, malleable. Heroes and farmers alike are merely temporary wielders.

Conditions:

Result:

Action:

Bookworm Dream
You had a dream.

In it, you were a bookworm living in an encyclopedia.

Daily you devoured the pages before you, first consuming "Prophets," then "Philosophers," then "Salted Mutton"... You ate and ate and ate, whether gods, excrement, or virtuous maidens - nothing deterred your appetite. The only distasteful parts were gold-dusted illustrations, which you carefully nibbled into delicate patterns, like flower petals decorating a lady's forehead.

Then you encountered a delicious obstacle: the leather cover, soft and supple. You feasted insatiably, your small, resilient teeth working without rest, hardly sleeping! The intricately carved cover and world knowledge became waste in your belly, which you smeared across sacred texts - a bookworm's dominion over the world.

Afterward, something unprecedented shocked you, filling you with fear, confusion, tension - you saw light!

Beyond the encyclopedia, the real world bathed in sunlight, birds peered from trees, dust filled the ruined library, snakes and cats prowled nearby...

You, a mere bookworm, gazed hopelessly at a world you could never consume.

You awoke.

This dream answered your question: crossing the threshold meant leaving the familiar world for the true realm. You believed you had devoured all mysteries, yet they watched you intently, like a woodpecker eyeing a worm.

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Action:

Cult Dream
You had a dream.

In it, you anxiously awaited something. Your companions lurked in darkness, equally impatient.

Your vision encompassed the entire night sky. Occasionally stars flickered, their light spreading into beacons, prompting people to leap toward them. Others followed, fighting and tearing at each other until the victor touched the light.

You watched blood rain from above, broken limbs and bruised eyes quickly healing in darkness amidst curses. Nothing mattered except capturing those beacons, the paths to power... the promise of a feast lasting millennia.

A beacon illuminated, and you instinctively rose - suddenly understanding it was the cultists' ritual, and you were the impure deity they summoned.

You awoke.

This dream was likely the Cultic God's reward, revealing truths meant only for initiates. If you continue advancing in His service, perhaps one day... this dream will become reality.

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Action:

Intuition Vision
You had a dream.

In it, your limbs couldn't move, nor could you turn your head. Your blood seemed frozen - you had become stone.

People approached you one by one, disrobing completely, displaying their bodies before you. Your forward-fixed eyes penetrated their skin, observing their muscles, organs, thoughts.

The pale priest harbored death wishes.

The fragrant noblewoman nursed lion-like ambitions.

The gold-adorned beauty possessed a spider's soul.

The book-carrying beggar filled his heart with stars.

You witnessed so many that souls nauseated you. How you longed to close your eyes, to let them become stone too, ending this torturous insight into human hearts...

Your wish came true as darkness gradually enveloped you. Only at the final moment did you realize - you were the white stone in the deepest chamber of the Purist Temple.

You awoke.

This dream was the Purist's answer: beyond that door, you transcend worshipper, priest, or patriarch, surpassing mortal limitations. But this means surrendering freedom and joy, becoming a sacred stone for deities to tread upon.

Conditions:

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Action:

Extra

Rebuking Darkness
You dare invoke the most unholy name before the Immaculate Purity!

They thunder through your mind, Their light a spear piercing heaven and earth, a ruler lashing the world...

Until the next day's sunset, whenever your focus wavers, everything before you shatters into light and flames... This divine punishment They foretell... fortunately, They cannot execute it immediately.

Conditions:

Result:

Ancient Enmity
Darkness boils as you mention Their enemy's name before a god.

Their anger transforms into a dark forest, intending to make you lost forever... Fortunately, you still pray for light in your heart. This beam, like a faint lamp, illuminates your path back to the mortal realm... it also reveals the monstrosities the evil god created from your fears. Masterpieces crafted from your inner terrors... about death, betrayal, failure, love... After waking, these images linger.

Conditions:

Result:

Spiral of Destruction
Two gods, two enemies both craving world destruction, meet unexpectedly in the depths of your mind.

Here is an excellent battlefield where They can destroy each other... destroy your mind... again and again.

Conditions:

Result: