[OOC: This thread takes place during Sirona's revolution after the goddess announced her intentions on eradicating sin and evil from Revaliir. Rather than place a tag, this disclaimer should suffice to explain.]

When the world was in danger, it wasn't uncommon for Shiloh to be the first to know, or at least be aware of the signs. Every day in the Machinarium, she spent countless hours monitoring the world through her myriad information channels. From spoken rumors to local news gazettes, to even more private exchanges of sensitive intel, if she could get a foot in the door–she'd pick up on it. But when the daylight hours continued to grow until they didn't end…there was no response from Antikythera. The solitary bastion perched within the scarred valley of Railoch continued as usual, silently. However, the storms outside were nothing compared to the one brewing within. It started with reports of crime being rooted out in a surprisingly efficient manner. Then reports of monsters typically reserved for the highest bounties found slain, and following that–covens and dens of those who lived and worked in darkness. Most of these flew under the radar of concern, after all it looked like the common folk were getting a well-needed breath of fresh air from typical dangers to their daily lives. And it would have flown under Shiloh's too, if it weren't for the fact that more and more of these events were turning out as indiscriminate killings. All vampires, all curse-variant lycanthropes, all sorcerers and practitioners of the unholy and occult were being targeted. Anything which failed to be fundamentally determined as 'good' was executed, axed, and put to the sword. Some saw it as a belated divine retribution. She saw it as murder.

And when Sirona publicly took responsibility for them, it dredged up countless memories Shiloh thought she had suppressed. You see, there was one reason why the angel's actions lit a fire beneath her ever-present paranoia–and that was Sylvain. Sirona had never visited Antikythera and she wasn't aware of the members of Shiloh's staff. While Walter might be considered safe from the purging, the vampire lord who had spent centuries in Kurayo before meeting the Steward was not. The very thought of someone potentially coming to kill anyone she considered 'friends and family' was enough to trigger a nervous breakdown reinforced by flashbacks of the events that led up to her arrival into Revaliir. It was a secret that she only knew; no one on this green earth had ever learned of the exact circumstances of Shiloh's entry into this world. Not her children, not Angela, not even her own husband. And now with the slightest possibility of this being a mass cleansing under religious context, everything she had tried so hard to forget was all flooding in. The past, that frightful specter, was now crawling up her back. The fear, the panic, the perpetual dread as if a knife were dangling above you on a spider's thread…the very worst of the darkest days of her life had returned with a vengeance.

He thought things had been settled between them back when she tried to suggest that he move his household and manor to Gobethio. He had spent centuries establishing himself in the shrouded city since he was turned, why should he forsake those years of hard-earned effort? Those who survived in Kurayo learned the ways of the city quickly and only fools found themselves facing their final death. When other lands would have beheaded or burnt him on a pyre, the island welcomed him with open arms. She told him it was because she thought the place was too dangerous. That reason in itself seemed foolish, as danger was everywhere in the world. When he had refused, she had taken his 'no' for an answer. And though he never allowed his wife or children to accompany him when he went to Kurayo to handle his estate, she had never complained. But one day, without precedent, she approached him and brought this matter up again. At first he assumed she had forgotten; it had been years since they had their last discussion. Even deities were not immune to forgetfulness brought on by time. He denied her request and went about his business. Then she came back with the same demands, again and again.

Her repeated attempts were starting to wear down his patience, and he could feel his anger grow with each instance. When she returned to plead with him for the fifth time, Sylvain had enough. Raising his voice, he told her in terse terms that he would not relocate his estate–not now or ever. Storming off, he left before she could say another word. The next time he returned to the Machinarium, there was an uneasy atmosphere lingering in the air. There were nothing out of the ordinary and the place hadn't changed, but somehow something didn't feel right. Entering in from the Marble Corridor, he saw Auron and a few of Antikythera's staff standing in the hall. The moment the red-haired man saw him, he briskly walked over. "Sylvain! Gods–you're finally here!" There was tension in his voice, and it was odd to see him back here after he officially moved his workshop to Sularia. "I could say the same thing for you. I thought you swore you'd never set foot back in this 'drab depressing place'?" He replied. The corner of Auron's mouth twitched at the reminder, but he didn't comment. "I did–but that doesn't matter. It's Shiloh, when was the last time she spoke with you?" 

"Around one week ago. Why?" His question was met with a short sigh of frustration. "She's locked herself up in Serenitas. None of the automatons have seen her in days, and when Galatea tried to use the remote communication system to reach her–there was no answer. Nobody can get in, and it's unnervingly quiet." Auron went to explain that the automatons noticed something was amiss when there were no sounds that were typical to her periods of intense focus, those month-long intervals where the Steward drew up designs of unusual machines and inventions. Even if she was preoccupied, if a staff member requested her presence she would at least take a moment to respond. Further questioning gave them the general time-frame of when the deity unexpectedly went into isolation. It was less than a day after he and Shiloh had a falling-out. "Did she say anything that might've given away what she was thinking? Anything odd or out of the ordinary?" Auron asked, and Sylvain felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. "No…I don't think so?" 

"…You–you blithering idiot!!" The red-head spat out, stamping his foot. After continually pressing the vampire lord for information, finally the truth came to light. Auron was pacing back and forth, crossing and uncrossing his arms. Putting his head in his hands, the man took in a deep breath before turning to face him. "The fact she kept asking you more than once and not accepting you said no is out of the ordinary!" Huffing, the man fanned himself before finding words that weren't expressions of anger. Sylvain was leaning against the wall, looking sheepish about the whole thing. "Don't you remember back when the Kougetsu clan invaded Antikythera? I know she's terrible at putting thoughts into words, but she never does anything without a reason. She tried to force us to leave because she thought we were in danger. Wouldn't her trying to convince you to leave Kurayo be the same?"

"I didn't know." That was as much of an excuse he could muster. "Of course you didn't know–we all didn't. I'm not blaming you for anything, I just want to know why she's acting this way. We have to find a way to convince her to come out and get her to talk, or else who knows what will happen."  

Despite no longer being Shiloh's Champion the Goddess had kindly let Artiya'il and Metatron keep their rooms at Antikythera, it was a kindness Artiya'il repaid by nagging at the Goddess when she did not take proper care of herself… which was always. They had become close, or as close as Arti ever got to another person since she wasn't exactly known for making friends… 

She had not been home of late… there had been too much to do with the rest of her insane family, and Shiloh did not need that on her doorstep. Two things had called her back to the Goddess' temple - the first was Metatron's concerned message in regard to the Goddess and her mental state, while the Scribe did not know Shiloh well, she knew her enough to greet her… but it appeared that Shiloh had come home and locked herself away from the world, refusing to come out and speak to anyone. That concerned Artiya'il, it was hard enough getting Shiloh to eat and rest as it was, but for the Goddess to lock herself away like that truly worried the Archangel. 
The second reason had been Sirona's announcement. Of all the things for her sister to start, a Revolution was not the one Artiya'il would have put a bet on her doing. She needed to speak with Shiloh, to see what the Goddess was going to do about all of this - again, she was no longer Champion (the Host took up too much of her time currently to keep up the title, she would stick with Chief Nag) but she still valued Shiloh's input and had vowed to stand by her side no matter what the Goddess chose to do. 

Even if Metatron hadn't called out to her to warn of Shiloh's odd behaviour Artiya'il would have felt the shift in the air in the Machinarium the minute she returned home. Something was truly wrong, and she intended to find out just what it was. Striding through the halls she came across the men gathered together and chatting, overhearing their discussion and raising an eyebrow at their words. She said nothing, lingering in the shadows to let the men have their discussion, taking in their emotions as well as their words so that she could assess the situation without bias. She knew the pair, not well but certainly by name due to her time as Champion and she had to agree with Auron that Shiloh did not tend to push for another answer if someone had made their mind up… clearly something had upset her to poke at the point. 

"She'll come out for me, or she will find herself dragged out," Artiya'il said simply as she stepped forward. "Where is she? I'll lure her out, she knows I can nag just as well as she can, if not better." 

It was happening all over again. Sitting in the darkness of her studio, Shiloh had her knees to her chest slightly rocking back and forth underneath a pile of blankets. The only thing that was keeping her tethered to reality was the presence of her familiar Niall, who was also in the blankets with her. He was asleep as ferrets slept for many hours in the day, and every now and then she would fumble about in the dark to check he was still there. The pile of quilts and sheets she was buried under muffled her periodic hyperventilation when her mind refused to stop replaying her worst fears in vivid detail. Sylvain had told her he wouldn't move from Kurayo. That meant his house was still there and his servants, and if he had business to attend to he would have to leave. If he stayed in Antikythera, he would be safe. If he stayed in Arri, he would be safe. But no matter how hard she tried to convince him, he still said no. She couldn't protect him if he went outside of these walls. Only in Antikythera was her power absolute. The moment she stepped outside into Parvpora…nothing could be guaranteed. And that to her was terribly frightening. 

Someone had been killing vampires–werewolves too. But Walter wasn't a bad person, and if he didn't feel safe he would come back. But Sylvain was different. He had stayed in Kurayo for a long, long time. He wasn't willing to cut ties and let go of the connections he had built. Someone had been killing vampires…all of them. Reports of destruction, decapitation, and piles of vampiric ash circulated in from all around the world to her ears. It would only be a matter of time…only a matter of time before Kurayo was next. It would be a massacre. A massacre that would kill everyone. Everyone…and people she cared about.

They were going to kill him. Whoever they were, whoever had done it. They would tie him up to a pyre and expose him to the sun. But when that would fail, they would then pile kindling and dry tinder around the base, then soak it all in oil. A lighted torch would set it all ablaze, and within minutes Nerine's husband would be a charred corpse. Or if they were less patient, they would tie him down on the ground after they stripped him of his armor–then drive a stake through his heart. Once his heart stopped beating, they would cut off his head and burn his body until nothing was left. They would throw his ashes to the wind and they would never, ever be able to find them. 

As the wheels of catastrophe spun wildly inside her head, Auron saw Artiya'il and filled her in on anything she hadn't already heard. "She's still in there–in Serenitas. It's an area completely separate from the rest of Antikythera. It's in an entire dimension of itself, with the only accessible point of entry being a particular door. But even then, unless she allows it–it won't open. I'm starting to suspect that it's more of a physical representation of her state of mind." The red-haired man contemplated the possibility of the angel dragging the recluse of a goddess out, then an idea came to him. Looking at Sylvain, he suddenly ran down the corridor until he was at the door to Shiloh's personal chambers. Before anyone else could stop him, he shouted loudly: "Shiloh–Sylvain said he's reconsidered his answer! He says he'll move out of Kurayo as soon as possible!" Everyone else had caught up and the vampire lord was furious at what Auron was saying, but when he tried to interject the red-head covered the man's mouth. 

Immediately the door swung open, and the deity stared back wide-eyed. But the moment she saw everyone and Sylvain, she tried to slam the door shut again. "Wait wait wait WAIT WAIT–" Auron shoved his foot in the door, preventing her from closing it all the way. He threw a glance to Artiya'il, his expression saying that if she wanted to convince Shiloh to come out, this was the time do it..