The temple has stood all this time, monolithic. Waiting.
Like an obelisk to a long-forgotten pagan ritual.
Yet, deep in its roots, down the musty winding catacombs, something stirs.
Something that was buried, years ago.
The tomb of Zombo, sealed and cobwebbed, begins to shift, shudder,
and with a cloud of dust, cracks open… 

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All Hail