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The altar fires are cold and the temples are dark. A fine layer of dust covers everything, undisturbed by the feet of the long-departed devotees. No incense burns, no candles are lit, no offerings made. The thrones sit empty.

In the streets, misery lines the faces of passersby. Their prayers have gone unanswered, and each day seems as empty as the last; no blessings reach them. The crops wither, the animals starve, but neither die. Nothing does. This is a time of unending famine, sickness from which there is no relief.

The gods are gone. In their wake is only this strange purgatory.

Is this a tragedy...or an opportunity?

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