Umirin treks back to the pulley by himself, his mind stirred up with thought. He still finds it hard to fathom what happened to his poor Shani.

He knows he should cast these thoughts away, focus on the heist ahead of him, but he simply cannot let go of it. How his darling suffered.

After much convincing, on both his part and the Elders joining him, Shani had agreed to let Umirin do the heart heist alone, while he stayed behind to keep the body of the fawn fresh.

Umirin wonders if this new ability he has, his new appearance, will revert back to what they were if the Soulbiters' plan works. He doesn't care much either way, but he does wonder.

He wonders what will happen in general, should this plan work. He cannot imagine resurrecting a God would come to pass with no side effects.

Come what may, in his opinion. They've all come too far by now to hesitate.

His trek is long and winding, but Umirin finds it easy enough to navigate his way back, pausing within the concealment of the nearby trees when he gets close to the pulley tree, eyeing it from his spot.

Shanirin had told him he'd set a fire of some kind before escaping, so Umirin presumes he must be more careful than usual. He's still incredibly stricken by the fact Shani would go so far to avenge him, yet incredibly swooned. Oh, his love.

He studies the area before him closer, refocusing himself. He only has one chance to do this well, he mustn't squander it.

There is a trap set before the entrance to the tree trunk, he notes, after taking in a patch of displaced foliage sitting spread out in front. They'd done well blending it in, but Umirin's mentor had done better teaching him to spot such traps.

He presumes it is a net snare.

He needs to find another way in, then, though he imagines heavy guard has been spread out everywhere now to keep watch for Shani returning so he may be arrested.

That will make things somewhat difficult, but Umirin thinks a diversion of some kind to draw most of them to one given spot should resolve that problem for him. He walks around the edge of the shadowed treeline, eyes raised up to look at the settlement above his head, casting a shadow over the trees and land below it. He cannot see much through the safety nets, but he can indeed spot guardsmen milling across the bridges from where he stands.

He shall have to activate the net snare to draw them all toward the pulley, he's certain a bell of some kind will sound once the trap launches, and then make his way up and hopefully get into the temple without being seen.

Now, how to get up there. The safety nets are a major hindrance, covering everything over. Useful as they are, when one is below them, they are a barrier. And sawing his way through them after his diversion is set will take too much time.

He might have to locate the hole in the net Shani used to escape, though that is a risk given it may have been repaired by now.

Still, it is his best and fastest option. He walks along the settlement's outer outline to locate where the soil stores are. Well, used to be, considering Shani burned the building down. Once he reaches the spot, looking up from below to ascertain if he's judged correctly, Umirin must pause.

There is a massive blackened hole reaching down the tree trunk, through the net, nothing but a jagged, charred stump sticking up. It's coated in soot and ash, still slightly smoking. Half the span of the safety net below it is eaten away into nothing but black, chewed up edges.

It resembles a massive, open wound on the settlement.

Umirin can hardly believe his eyes. Shani had truly not held back.

Well, that is certainly his way in solved. The one issue left may be the fact that one part of the bridge connecting to the soil stores is entirely burned away, leaving quite the gap between the charred trunk that the soil stores once sat on and the remainder of the bridge that he shall have to jump.

Right. He will manage, he must.

It is as good of a plan as he is likely to get anyhow.

Umirin makes his way back along to the front of the pulley entrance, standing a healthy ways away from the trap. He looks around for a rock of some kind, and picks up a decently heavy one nearby. It needs to weigh a bit to properly set the snare off.

He takes a breath, braces himself to rush, and tosses the stone into the snare. The net snaps closed as soon as the rock hits it, rises upward, and Umirin bolts to the shrill sound of the alarm bell going off.

He runs back toward to the remains of the trunk, and hops upward, grabbing hold of its dry, thick limbs to start pulling himself up, grunting with effort as he forces his body to climb quickly, the ash and soot flaking off the burnt bark sticking to his hands and body, but Umirin doesn't let that stop him.

A shudder of relief alleviates his achingly hammering heart when he picks up on the yelling and thundering footsteps clearing away from where he is climbing up. His diversion worked, good.

Umirin climbs faster, his body growing sore and numb as he grapples to get high enough to where he'll be able to leap for the bridge. The gap is slightly frightening, but he does not let himself falter. He adjusts his body against the trunk once there, bracing his legs to push for most spring, and takes a deep breath.

In place now, he turns his head to focus on the edge of the bridge he must grab onto.

And then, with a heave, he leaps toward it, launching himself off the tree with his feet. He soars through the air, arms outstretched to grab, for a heart-stopping moment feeling like he won't make it, but as soon as his palms make contact with the edge of the bridge his fingers dig in deep and grasp. He gasps with effort as he swings a bit with his leftover momentum, his full weight hanging from his hands holding onto the edge, dangling momentarily.

Umirin pants, feels his blood hammering through his body, not wasting another moment though, as he starts to scramble forward, trying to pull himself atop. He throws a leg up to hook it onto the bridge, grunting more as he heaves with his arms and leg to roll himself onto the walkway.

He whines with effort once he lays there, taking more deep breaths to calm his skipping heart. He can't dawdle about here, so he forces himself to his feet, thankfully spotting no one around. Still distracted. Good.

Umirin sets off to the temple then, crouching low on the bridges, sticking to the shadows of houses along the way wherever he can, doing his best to reach the building and slip inside as soon as possible, his body tense as a bow while he keeps an eye out on his surroundings, terrified he'll be seen.

He's only one bridge away from the temple. So close.

Heart, let nothing go wrong now.

He crosses the final bridge and plasters himself to the back of the temple. The wall is cool against his feverish body, and he lets out a breath of relief.

Umirin creeps along it to reach the front entrance, his body taut when he spots the guards at the pulley starting to disperse. He rushes into the temple, slipping into the thankfully always open building just as a guard turns around.

Oh, holy, that had been far too close.

He turns about for a moment, the room he is in round and cavernously tall. The walls are painted in beautiful depictions of the Divine Beast coughing up the first seed, how the Forest sprouted from it, the entire creation story laid out around him. He'd been here many times, yet the art always captivates him.

Umirin feels a dull throb beat at the back of his chest at how foreign that faith and loyalty feels to him now.

He hardens his heart though, for there is no turning back. Besides, for Shani, he would do it all again. The path to damnation is always paved with good intentions after all, but the one who walks it never emerges as good intended as they'd went in.

Umirin has made peace with that.

He is now what he always had the potential to become. The beast that lurks in the roots of all mortal hearts becomes him, and there is nothing left to say.

He walks to the dais at the back of the round room, atop which sits the altar carved of a wood block in the shape of the fawn that the hunters had slain. At its feet lay a carved out basin, currently filled with soil satchels with hearts buried in them that people leave after their meals.

He looks past the altar, above the fawn's head, the locked chest with the divine heart within that hangs by two chains from the ceiling, protected by an alarm bell that will sound off should it ever be disturbed.

Umirin isn't sure how to reach the chest to begin with, given how high up it is. He looks around for chairs or furniture, but there is nothing else in the room. It's more sacred that way, only the altar to pray at, and the relic looming above.

An old reminder that all must pay their dues, by will or by blood alike.

He grits his teeth as he comes to the only option he's got left, then.

Climb over the altar. Trample the sanctity of the divine.

By blood he will pay, it seems.

Umirin steps up onto the edge of the basin, settling one foot there, then he leans forward and braces himself against the snout of the fawn as he lifts his other leg too, balancing on the basin's rim. He looks at the carved fawn's face, feels its wooden eyes bore into him.

Umirin stares back evenly, then hikes a leg up onto the fawn's back, precariously straightening himself up.

There is a wall he can brace against next, thankfully, since the altar is at the back of the room. He shifts forward and gets his other leg on top of the fawn's head, tipping forth and grabbing against the wall to hold himself in place.

The chest now dangles within arms' reach above him.

He must do something about the bell first though. He considers his options, deciding that silencing it somehow is the less risky venture over attempting to cut it down.

He brings his arm up to his face then, and bites into the hem of his tunic's sleeve, jerking his head to tear a chunk off his clothes. With a soft ripping sound it gives, and he takes the piece, waddles it up, then carefully reaches upward, teteering in his balance, and stuffs the leather fabric into the mouth of the bell, jamming it tight around the clapper so it may not ring.

Once that is dealt with, he focuses on getting the chest down. There are two loops at each side of it that the hooks at the ends of the chains are slotted into to hold it aloft. He braces one hand on the bottom of the chest, shivering as he touches the cool wood, feeling the magnitude of what he is holding deeply sink into him.

The heart of God. Something greater than his comprehension.

It's a sobering moment.

He can't afford to dwell though, no matter this clarity, since he doesn't know how much time he has before someone has need of the temple and catches him in here.

With his other hand Umirin unhooks the first hook, the weight of the chest sinking against his palm bracing it slightly, and then he unhooks the second, releasing it fully into his arms.

He glances at the bell alarm, seeing it trembling as it tries to ring at the intrusion but cannot.

Good. Umirin clutches the box close as he begins to carefully retrace his steps in climbing down, unsure how to feel at the sight of the pristinely clean, smooth altar now stained with sooty footprints and ash.

He supposes it's befitting of the situation overall.

He just about steps off the basin rim, when everything goes wrong in a heartbeat.

"What are you doing?" the harsh voice of the priest that keeps the temple sounds off from behind him.

Umirin feels himself grow cold, not yet turning around, "I—had business here," he replies, voice stiff, unsure himself why he is entertaining conversation. Though it's good, so long as the priest is kept distracted he won't yell for guards.

"What business? Show yourself," the priest insists, his voice turning sharper.

Umirin holds the chest tighter through the merciless rush of panic clawing at him. What is he supposed to do now?

The moment he turns around is the moment the priest sees the chest and yells for help.

Umirin cannot let that happen. This man must be silenced somehow.

He closes his eyes when he feels the ever colder, ever darker yet abyss of his heart settle on what must be done.

He blinks them open and looks down at the chest. He grips one of those loops on the side with a hand, threading fingers through, adjusting his grip so it's tight enough.

I will become as monstrous as I must.

He whirls around in a blur, his arm holding the chest arcing toward the priest as he swings with the heft of it, cracking a sharp corner over the man's head with a sickening squelch just as he manages to get out a mere gasp.

He doesn't let out another louder sound, his eyes rolling  back and body collapsing to the floor with a thud.

Umirin stands above the body, the corner of the chest dangling from his hand now stained with bright, red blood.

A spot on the priest's head is caved in and split open, yet more stark, fresh blood gushing from the wound, forming a red halo around his face.

Umirin watches this with blank eyes, then steps away before the puddle would get over his boots.

He straightens the chest out properly, wipes the stained corner of it clean with his good sleeve, then walks around the body and toward the temple entrance.

He only hopes now that the divine heart within the chest had not been destroyed or damaged in any way by the impact.

Umirin closes his eyes at that thought, stopping just short of the door, momentarily far too weighted down to continue as the last of his splintered humanity sinks through him, drops out, and through the floor, the air of empty space below and finally, sinks deep into the soil of the earth.

From the Forest all life sprung, and to the Forest it may return.

Now, appropriately hollow, Umirin feels just as bloodless as the Elders are. Just as cursed.

He hopes the priest's family will give him a nice, worthy send-off, then leaves the temple without looking back once.