Famias’s words still hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder that their situation was quite far from the ordinary. Fear and uncertainty deepened, and the feelings of pandemonium became even more profound. 

Were others going to share the same fate as them if they chose to not cooperate with Pope Famias and his minions?

 Zane felt a knot tighten in his stomach, an unsettling realization that they were embroiled in a fate that was forced upon them all, and with no means of escape to top it off. 

The pope's message raised more questions than answers about their surroundings and the true intent behind their sudden displacement. The assembled were captives of circumstances they could not yet fathom. 

What path lay ahead, Zane couldn't foresee, but he knew that the only way to escape this now grim reality was to keep moving forward. 

He would have to go along with whatever egregious plan the Pope and his cohorts had created, just as the Dragocor family mantra dictates, “Stare fortes vel opprimi; Stand Strong, or Be Crushed.”

"Enough dillydallying, the people of Furnodis await their grand champions!”, Pope Famias's voice reverberated through the chamber, breaking the silence from the ominous event that happened mere moments ago.

“HEAVENLY KINGS, PREPARE THEM FOR THE POTENRIS CEREMONY!"

The thousands upon thousands of summoned individuals were then herded by the twelve “Heavenly Kings”, who were the same twelve that had initially summoned this vast group into this strange realm, towards a humongous door in the back of the hall.

The door gradually opened up and led to an open battleground, with Pope Famias and Carceris floating above the center. A vast amphitheater wrapped around the field, pulsing with tension. Curiosity spread through the crowd like wildfire. 

"What's going on now?" "Where did all these people come from?" "Why are they watching us so intently?" Uncertainty clung to the faces of the displaced as they awaited their unknown fate.

Seated within the amphitheater, rows upon rows of people stood together, their eyes scrutinizing the people below, as if they were nothing more than cattle to be sold off.

Amongst the crowd, a man with silky, golden hair and wearing flowing, white robes, sipped a fine wine and said, 

“Ah, a fresh drove of piggies have arrived! How DEEEELIGHTFUL!” 

He licked his lips in pleasure as he glossed over the crowd; surveying all the possible summons he could add to his “Piggie Litter”.