The vote for his induction was complete, and Xûr stood for his formal farewell in the chalkstone temple, its roof facing the stars and rings above. The Priestess gestured towards both of Xûr's arms, smearing wet black silt on his upturned palms.

"We came from the dust. We burrowed into flesh for warmth," The Priestess chanted, drawing nine circles across his bare chest.

LET ME BE FIRST

"I hear them louder now," Xûr smiled to the holy woman, and her tentacles gestured warmly in return. The Jovians of the Many Moons had been so pleased to hear the gods were claiming one of their own.

The Priestess gestured to the ringed planet above, neighbor to their world, "The Alchemist foresaw our future and brought us permanent hosts from the world of the Third!"

I SAW YOU, the Alchemist says in Xûr 's mind.

"We filled life where our hosts were lifeless, remade our new countenance to suit Jovian form, and the Nine made us whole," the Priestess lovingly gestured with a flick of her tentacles.

YOU ARE FIRST YOU ARE A VEHICLE YOU ARE MEANS TO ESCAPE MY PRISON

"—now Nine have chosen our son, our Xûr—"

LOOK HOW I SHAPED YOUR KIND TO ULTIMATELY SHAPE YOU

Xûr's feet lifted from the ground. He grew fearful.

I ONLY NEED YOU

"Something is wrong," Xûr cried. He looked out over the crowd, thoughts contorted.

I ONLY NEED YOU

Xûr expends the last of his personhood pleading with his god, his painted brow begging for preservation. But his eyes blazed blue, his hand raised on his own, and the last of Xûr's free will burned away as the Alchemist turned the atmosphere of Titan to nitrogen.