With their gravitic engines leaving a miniature dust storm in their wake, the Vodyani caravan continued on the final stretch of their procession across the desert. Five hoverbikes, entirely metallic and with several sharp angle hovered several inches off the ground, ferrying their passengers across the arid wasteland. Each bike held only a single black-suited rider, each with a long, black spear strapped to their backs, and a pulse rifle slung over their shoulders. These five soldiers rode at the front, spearheading the convoy in a V shape. A bulky hovercar followed behind them, as fast as its driver would allow.

Oh, the vehicle could go much faster, Zed knew. But the driver went slower because he had to seem as if he were not in a hurry. The Vodyani were here on a mission, after all - a ritual. And as with all rituals, they had to be carried out to the letter, lest the wrath of the priesthood be incurred.

Sitting in the back seats of the vehicle, Zed St. Zahara tilted his head to look at his fellow passenger. Kelara - the High Priest of their Ark, and his mentor, to boot. Intently staring forward, she made no indication that she was aware of his gaze.

Stifling a hum, Zed leaned back and turned his gaze upwards to the blue sky, tracing the clouds before they disappeared from his line of sight. The top of the vehicle was exposed, allowing wind to rush in and brush across the exterior of Zed's face. Terrestrial annoyances such as wind and rain had no effect on the Vodyani, beings of energy that they were. It did, however, discourage Zed from voicing his thoughts, lest the wind swallow his words.

Perhaps that was for the best. He should say as little as possible, and speak only when spoken to, lest he give away that secret which he clutched so desperately close to his heart.

Rid yourself of these thoughts, his conscience sighed. They are growing to be a nuisance. No one is suspicious of you, and no one will be as long as you continue to act as you already have been.

"That is easy for you to say," Zed wordlessly replied to the voice inside his head, and turning his gaze back down and looking across the desert. "You're the one who's at no risk if I fail."

Untrue. To be made a religious ornament - nothing more than a precious bauble for a group of zealots to gawk at...now that would be fate worse than death. I would rather have been left alone in that ruined bunker for all eternity.

Just continue as you are, Zahara continued. And soon enough, I'll find a way to let the both of us escape your damnable church.

"I still find this all so hard to believe," Zed mentally sighed. "I suppose that Empire saying is true...that you should never meet your gods."

Disappointed, are you? Perhaps this Empire of yours actually has a shred of wisdom...

"Acolyte," High Priest Kelara stated, calmly turning to look at Zed. "Judging by that distant gaze of yours, you are rather distracted. Is something the matter?"

"No, Master," Zed replied, straightening his posture and shaking his head. "I was...simply brushing a few thoughts away. Clearing my mind before we begin."

"I see," Kelara nodded. "Do so, but see that you do not allow yourself to slip too far. We will arrive in but a few minutes."

In the distance, the red sand of the desert was giving way to darker, more arable soil. The lush greenery of a jungle was visible in the distance, the first signs of life since their landing craft had touched down.

"Are you prepared?" she added after a brief pause. "There can be no mistakes once we have arrived."

"I am prepared," Zed nodded firmly. "I know the details of this ritual inside and out, Master."

"This is not simply about memorization," Kelara said, shaking her head. If the exterior of her holographic body had facial features, Zed was sure that she would be giving him a stern frown. "A Vodyani must exude an air of confidence at all times when dealing with lesser species. This is even more crucial for a Priest. Carry your honor and your pride as a Vodyani with every step. As our descendants first laid eyes upon the majesty of the Virtual with tearful joy in their eyes, others must gaze upon us. Always remember that."

"I will, Master," Zed nodded. "Thank you for your wisdom."

Not long after, the convoy arrived at their destination - a primitive village located at the outskirts of the jungle. This planet was entirely uninhabited, save for this small patch of jungle on an otherwise barren desert world. Hundreds of small, furry humanoids crept out of the treeline, excitedly chittering in their native language and waving their four arms at the approaching Vodyani.

This village was home to a group of primitive Kalgeros, a minor actor on the galactic stage. And while the Kalgeros were a spacefaring nation and had an economic powerhouse of a homeworld, no civilization had complete unity. The group of Kalgeros on this planet were dissidents, having been discontent with their government over a century ago, leaving and living their simple little lives on this desolate rock in a distant solar system. They threw themselves into work, prayer, and martial training with admirable fervor, devoting themselves to a life that would honor their ancient traditions.

In a way, they were not entirely unlike the Vodyani, at least in terms of their work ethic. Their fervor, however, made them exploitable, a fact which was not lost on Zed. Just over two decades ago, the ceaseless engine of Vodyani proselytizers had discovered the primitive village, swiftly setting about brainwashing the primitives, indoctrinating them to believe that the Vodyani were the modern incarnations of their gods. For ten years, the primitives were tasked with improving themselves to the highest degree, with the promise of the Vodyani's return. And so, the primitive Kalgeros set about their daily tasks with renewed vigor, sparring with each other daily to hone their skills, and offering devout prayers to the divine beings of light that had gifted them with their presence.

Exactly ten years later, down to the exact minute, the Vodyani had returned. And once every further year on the date, they returned again. Today would mark the 12th time that the ritual had occurred, and it had been performed flawlessly every time. Nodding to himself before stepping out of the car, Zed summoned his confidence and stood proud, the shoulder-cape of his suit of white Cloth flowing elegantly in the wind.

Showtime, Vodyani, his conscience told him. Walk like you know that you're better than everyone else.

Retrieving a black, metallic cylinder from his belt, Zed pressed a button and the rod in both directions, unfurling his staff. Walking forward behind the High Priest, who was clad in a white Cloth of her own, Zed noticed that many of the Kalgeros held similar instruments - wooden staves and spears, crude imitations of Vodyani craftsmanship, but admirable nonetheless.

One of the primitives, clad in a white robe, excitedly jogged forward and prostrated itself before the High Priest, who stopped and looked down at it.

"Zelun-ta!" It greeted. "Hashari-le, takun yar vahar ngen wahari!"

Zed did not understand the creature, but he did not need to. His job was to witness, not to translate.

The High Priest Kelara nodded at the creature, appeased by whatever it had said.

"Vahar," she said simply, dismissing the Kalgeros with a wave of her hand, making her long cape swish to the side.

All of the assembled Kalgeros began to move, forming a procession towards some circular building in the center of the village - their arena. It was a simple construction, two stories tall, and primarily made of stone quarried from the desert.

Their architecture isn't all that bad, honestly, his conscience muttered. You know, I had a forest vacation getaway for my physical body, way back when.

"Quiet," Zed urged. "Do not distract me."

The Kalgeros in the white robes dashed to the center of the colosseum, shouting a few orders at his subordinates. Two dozen Kalgeros darted to the edge of the fighting arena, standing proud and awaiting their moment. The Vodyani procession was guided to the seating in the stands, protected from the wind and rain by a wooden awning and tree fronds - the viewing box, the seat of honor. The security team remained standing, leaving their pulse rifles on their backs and holding their energy pikes. High Priest Kelara moved to sit down, and Zed followed behind her, sitting down on the cushioned wooden bench.

With that, the Kalgeros leader gave another command, and two of the primitives on the edge of the circle dashed forward, each holding their weapon of choice. There was no need for any pomp and circumstance. Both sides knew exactly what the other was there for, and the Kalgeros were eager to demonstrate their progress to their gods.

A gong sounded, and the martial tournament began.

The larger combatant charged forward with a battle cry, his spear held low to the ground, pointed tip glaring viciously at his opponent. The smaller Kalgeros rolled out of the way, swinging her staff at her opponent, and knocking them to the ground. Staff raised high, she dashed forward, intending to bring her weapon down for a finishing strike, but her opponent parried with the shaft of his spear, blocking her attack. Sweeping her legs with his own, the larger primitive nimbly somersaulted back onto his feet, driving his spear into the side of his opponent before she had a chance to react. She let out a cry of pain, which was quickly silenced by another lethal spear strike to her heart. The smaller Kalgeros leaned forward, desperately reaching for the sky, then fell backwards, dead.

As two of the other fighters dashed forward, gripping the dead primitive's arms and dragging her corpse to the edge of the arena, High Priest Kelara clapped slowly and deliberately. First blood had been shed before the gods. Zed joined in shortly after her, nodding to let the fighters know that they were pleased.

"Vahar!" Every single Kalgeros present chanted. "Vahar a ka Zelun-ta!"

"For clay," one of the guards behind her muttered, just softly enough so that the High Priest would not hear, "they fight well. That was a clean recovery."

One of the other guards mumbled something in response. Zed continued on as if he hadn't heard them.

The tournament continued in this fashion for nearly an hour. The primitives continued to duel in single combat, slowly whittling their numbers their down until there were more dead fighters than living. Eventually, one last body fell to the ground, and there were only two left - the large primitive from the first match, who had slain five opponents, and a small female that had defeated four.

High Priest Kelara stood up, dramatically flourishing with her hand and giving a proclamation to the spectating Kalgeros in their native tongue. Zed did not understand her speech, but knew what she meant. The two champions had been chosen, and would be given the highest honor possible. Kelara finished her rousing speech, and several of the cheering Kalgeros spectators entered the arena, pushing the corpses of the fallen warriors forward into a smaller ring.

The High Priest proceeded forward in slow, measured steps, moving down from the stands and stepping over the corpses of the fallen to stand inside the center of the ring. Zed followed after her, but not before taking the offered reliquary from the arms of one of the soldier Vodyani. The ornate box was heavy, but the power of Zed's black suit - his holy Cloth - allowed him to heft it with ease. With Kelara motioning for the two Kalgeros champions to step into the center of the ring of corpses, the diminutive warriors eagerly moved forwards, stepping over the bodies of their opponents.

Unfurling her energy staff, the High Priest dramatically raised her holy implement before striking down with crushing force, planting the tip of the staff into the blood-soaked dirt. Opening the reliquary, Zed withdrew two sets of holy Cloth, and a matching pair of anti-gravity stands. Reverently unfurling the two black suits, Zed activated the anti-gravity stands, allowing the Cloth to bob up in down in midair, effectively held in place without a mannequin.

The assembled Kalgeros stared on in awe, silently cheering for their champions, the deaths of the fallen already forgotten.

Turning her head, High Priest Kelara gave Zed a nod. It was time.

Holding his arms wide in a prophetic stance, Zed let his voice ring throughout the arena as small, orange tendrils began to shimmer into existence, trailing from the bodies of the fallen warriors to the High Priest's planted staff.

"Behold!" he declared boldly, using the Vodyani language. "Behold your most devout souls, your strongest warriors, your two worthy champions! Witness their ascension! Witness as they become Zelun-ta!"

The orange, shimmering tendrils grew larger and more visible, drawing energy from the corpses of the warriors and directing it into the High Priest's staff, which began to shimmer and glow itself. Orange energy began to snake out from the staff, wrapping itself around the arms of the Kalgeros champions and circling around their bodies before it began to seep into their fur, permeating their bodies.

I have to admit, I do find this process fascinating, Zahara admitted. The effectiveness of Vodyani propaganda rivals even that of the Concrete.

Zed ignored the Virtual Endless inside of his head, and continued his speech. Lowering his volume, he directed his words at the two champions.

"You, above all others," he declared. "are worthy. Worthy of ascending. Worthy of becoming Vodyani."

The energy seeping into the Kalgeros grew more intense, causing them to grunt and grip the staff more tightly. Their hands began to emit an orange glow, becoming indistinguishable from the Essence flowing from the dead Kalgeros. The process set off a runaway effect, quickly spreading through the rest of their bodies and causing them to glow with a blinding light. The corpses of the dead warriors were finally exhausted of Essence, but the ascension was nearly complete. The silhouette of the Kalgeros had disappeared, and the growing light grew taller and slimmer as it changed shape, losing a pair of arms in the process.

"You were born as clay," Zed declared. "Sinful, weak, and temporary. You are reborn as light - pure, vigorous, and eternal!"

"Let the power of the Virtual Saints flow through you!" Zed shouted, raising his staff high into the sky. "Now, my brother, my sister! Cast off the shackles of your primitive forms, and rise...Virtual!"

The blinding light faded, revealing two new beings of orange energy, already wearing their Cloths. Palms outstretched, they glanced around in awe, admiring their new bodies. The corpses of the dead warriors had become shriveled and dessicated, cracking with necrotic black tissue, but the bodies of the two champions were nowhere to be found.

"Welcome," the High Priest greeted calmly. "I greet you in the name of the Church of the Virtual Saints. Now, what are you?"

"Vodyani," the female replied. "And you are...a High priest...?"

"Why do we know that?" the male questioned, blinking with nonexistent eyes. "And how can we already speak your tongue?"

"Our tongue," the High Priest corrected. "You are one of us, now. All will be explained in short order, once we return to the Ark. But first, there is one matter that must be resolved. Your names."

"I am..." the female trailed off, hesitant. She soon found her confidence, and nodded firmly at the High Priest.

"Vesha," she declared. "I decided that would be my name if I was chosen."

"The Church welcomes you, Vesha," Kelara nodded, turning to the male. "And you?"

"Vryll," he nodded. "My name is Vryll, now."

"The Church welcomes you, Vryll," Kelara said. "Then, we are done here. No doubt you two have many questions."

"We do," Vryll nodded.

"I want to learn how to be Zelun-" Vesha coughed, then corrected herself. "Vodyani. I want to learn to be Vodyani."

Nodding, Kelara turned to Zed. "Acolyte, see that the final aspects of the ritual are completed. I shall escort our new brother and sister to their new home."

"Understood, Master," Zed agreed. "I shall see you on the Ark, then. Farewell for now, Vesha, Vryll."

The three Vodyani stepped over the rapidly deteriorating corpses of the Kalgeros warriors without so much as a second though, departing for the parked vehicle convoy. Half of the Vodyani soldiers left with them, while the others stepped forward to help Zed finish the remainder of the ritual.

And just like that, Zahara sighed, two new disciples are born, already on the path to zealotry. Your church is so very impatient...

Zed remained silent, standing still as the Kalgeros spectators moved to collect the now-ashes of the dead warriors.

What, nothing to say? I can feel your unease, you know.

"The ritual is not over," Zed replied. "I dare not think before the task is complete. I...have much to meditate over."

That's putting it lightly. Anyway, I'm going to sleep for a while. Wake me when we're back on the Ark.

Moving to carry out the remainder of his tasks, Zed suppressed the swirling tempest of emotions that was broiling inside him. He succeeded, mostly, but one niggling thought persisted.

He wanted to talk to Vryll and Vesha. They had risen, Virtual, but unlike himself, they clearly still retained memories of their former selves. Perhaps, by talking with them, he could grow to understand his own thoughts, his own origins. The Church wouldn't like it, but the Church was still unaware that his Cloth was beyond their control, thanks to the presence of Zahara.

All he wanted to do was ask some questions. Was that so wrong? Even if it was, the Church couldn't stop him. His days of blindly following the Hierarch were over.

Zed still craved answers to many questions of his own, but had found one truth during the course of the ritual.

That the Vodyani were imperfect replications of imperfect beings.

A/N: I find the Vodyani to be a fascinating race, one that is exceptionally designed in terms of visuals, gameplay, and story. This is my interpretation of them, using what few details there are and adding some of my own.

Amplitude really crafted an excellent universe with the Endless series, bravo. I might do a few more of these short snippets for the other races, if I have the time.