The inside of the church was starkly opposite to the village. Beautiful metal lined the walls and floor, etched and scratched with odd, misspelled phrases and pictographs. The little blue folk in here were dressed in robes, kept their heads bowed, and muttered nonsensical phrases under their breath. At the far end of the church sat what appeared to be a steel statue, the head illuminated with a blue light. To the Bohrar’s, it was the face of their prophet. The Illuminated One. However, the little metal orb was, to those with the knowledge, a Monitor. It’s gaze, denoted by the blue beam of light sweeping the floor, rested upon the visitors.
“Leave us,” a voice boomed. “I must judge these visitors.”
The Bohrar priests gasped and shuffled out quickly, making sure to scatter any peeping toms. Once the Bohrars dispersed, and with a little bit of effort, the Monitor dislodged itself from the statue.
“Thank the Forerunners you’re here. I couldn’t stand listening to those-those...simpletons! I cannot hold even a phantom of a complex discussion with them before they hit the dirt. Welcome! Welcome to Installation 07. And just in time, too.”