The fallen gods, expelled from the ether, collect crumbs of strength among people, laying on the sacrificial altars both their supporters and those who are driven to them like herds of rams by mercenaries. The fallen are able to occupy any shell, and even the power of the alchemist, allowing Erie to feel the transformation of matter, cannot help him recognize who is next to him: an enemy or friend, once a formidable god or a crafty goddess. Maybe, having found the Book of Destinies, he will save this world from devastation? Or will the sword of Shakhod, who recognized him, help him cleanse him of the Fallen?