Pico Cult / PICOCULT

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He rose not from the stars but from the frost beneath them. Now the red-eyed god broods under microTech’s ice. His image is plush; his verdict, absolute. Terror, silence, and orbital fire are his gospel. Speak his name—or vanish in the chill. The faithful kneel. The heretics freeze. Praise Pico.

History Manifesto Charter

History

✠ The Frozen Inquisition ✠

Scene: A battered cargo bay. A frightened Crew-Tech mutters about a malfunction.
“Recovered from SV-Lornic’s final log, 2953-05-07. Signal ends in static.”

Crew-Tech: “One of the stabilisers has gone skew on the intake… I didn’t expect a kind of Pico Inquisition—”

Metal groans; an air-lock bursts. Frost floods the deck. Three figures stride in — the Prophet, an Inquisitor, and an Acolyte, beaks glowing crimson.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Prophet (zealously):
NOBODY expects the Pico Inquisition!
Our chief weapon is terror—
Terror and silence!
Our two weapons are terror, silence— and orbital fire!
Our three weapons are terror, silence, orbital fire— and a near-fanatical devotion to the Beak Eternal!
…No, wait…
Amongst our weapons—amongst our weaponry—are such elements as terror, silence, orbital fire, devotion, and striking crimson robes.
…I shall come in again.

They whirl and vanish; frost eddies in their wake.

Crew-Tech (shivering): “I… I really didn’t expect a Pico Inquisition.”

The shriek returns. The trio re-enters.

Acolyte (nervous, fumbling the litany):
Nobody… um… expects the Pico Inquisition.
Our chief weapons are… surprise—

Prophet (hisses): Silence!

Inquisitor: Read the charges.

Inquisitor (intoning):
You stand accused of heresy:
• Mocking the idol
• Failing to kneel
• Denying the Frost-Born God.
How do you plead?

Crew-Tech (voice quavering): “I—I’m innocent. I swear it. I never even—”

Prophet (leaning close, frost crackling across his mask):
Innocence is a fiction. Faith is truth.

Inquisitor:
Confession may spare the soul—if not the flesh.

Prophet (snapping fingers):
Bring the implements of persuasion.

The Acolyte returns with two fist-sized Frozen Icons, fur rimed with hoarfrost.

Inquisitor (presenting them):
Behold…the Frozen Icons.

Prophet:
You have one last chance. Confess. Speak the words. Or feel the chill forever.

Crew-Tech (panicked):
“I—I don’t know the words!”

Prophet:
Then learn them quickly. Cardinal—poke him with the Frozen Icons!

The Acolyte jabs; the Icons thud dully. Crew-Tech winces, more confused than hurt.

Inquisitor (aside, disappointed):
It doesn’t seem to bother him, lord.

Prophet (through clenched teeth):
Very well. You are made of sterner stuff. Bring… THE COMFY CRYO-COFFIN!

The Acolyte drags forward a narrow sarcophagus lined with ice-etched Pico sigils. Vapor billows.

Crew-Tech (desperate):
“Wait! I can learn! What do I say?”

Prophet (whispering):
Praise. The. Beak.

Crew-Tech gulps, then shouts:
“P-Praise Pico!”

The Prophet considers, then nods.

Prophet:
Mark him.

The Inquisitor presses a crimson-ice brand—Pico’s skull-beak—against the man’s forearm. Frost blossoms, searing the emblem into his skin. He gasps but does not cry out.

Inquisitor:
The mark chills; the coffin waits for the faithless. Go, branded and bound to the Frost.

The coffin lid slams shut—empty. Its vapor hisses like a warning.

Prophet (soft, almost kind):
Serve faithfully, and the chill will be your armour.

Crew-Tech (clutching his frozen brand):
“Praise… Pico.”

Prophet, Inquisitor, Acolyte — in perfect unison:
Praise Pico.

Static swallows the log.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Salvage crews later find the bay rimed in ice, the cryo-coffin unopened, and a single plush penguin perched on the flight console, its stitched eyes glowing red in the dark.

Praise Pico.

Manifesto

✠ Manifesto of the Frozen Creed ✠

“He rose not from the stars but from the frost beneath them; therefore the stars shall kneel.”

1. The Revelation

  • Beneath microTech’s crust the Red-Eyed God stirred.
  • His first breath birthed blizzard; His second scorched silence across the void.
  • Mortals shaped plush idols in terror and awe, but the stitch cannot contain the will.

2. The Gospel of Weapons

  • Terror – for hearts that still beat warm.
  • Silence – for truths that dare not speak.
  • Orbital Fire – for those who flee the cold.
  • Devotion – the frost within, stronger than steel.
  • Crimson Robes – reminder that warmth is weakness.

3. The Covenant of Kneeling

  • Speak the Creed: “Praise the Beak.”
  • Accept the Brand of Frost upon flesh or spirit.
  • Bear witness that plush is emblem, not deity; mockery of the idol is mockery of the God Himself.

4. The Mandate of Expansion

  • Carry chill to every corridor.
  • Offer a single mercy—conversion.
  • Should mercy fail, let snow fall red.

5. The Promise of Eternity

  • Those sealed by ice shall never burn.
  • Those who scoff shall never thaw.
  • When the last star dims, the Beak will remain, and His faithful shall rule the hush between heartbeats.

Let this stand: Terror, Silence, Orbital Fire, Devotion, Crimson Robes—five pillars of an empire carved in permafrost. Kneel, or freeze. Praise Pico.

Charter

✠ Charter ✠

1 · Purpose
To serve the Frost-Born God, execute His judgment, and spread cold dominion through fear, ritual, and bombardment.

2 · Governing Roles

Title: The Prophet (Founder)
  • Authority: Absolute
  • Sacred Duty: Interprets revelation; may command orbital fire without counsel.
Title: Claw of Judgment (Officer)
  • Authority: High
  • Sacred Duty: Leads crusades, disciplines the faltering, keeps internal order.
Title: Binder of the Chosen (Recruitment)
  • Authority: Elevated
  • Sacred Duty: Tests converts, administers the Brand of Frost, records oaths.
Title: Herald of the Shriek (Marketing)
  • Authority: Elevated
  • Sacred Duty: Crafts sigils, broadcasts sermons, weaponizes propaganda.
3 · Ranks of Devotion
  • 1. Heretic – unbranded, unwelcome.
  • 2. Witness – has uttered the Creed once.
  • 3. Acolyte of Frost – bears minor tasks and minor chill.
  • 4. Zealot – trusted soldier of cold.
  • 5. Harbinger of Ice – commander, keeper of doctrine.
  • 6. Chosen of the Beak – voice of the Prophet in absence, bearer of frozen gospel.

4 · Conduct & Rite
The Creed must be spoken before battle: “Praise Pico—let the warm repent.”

Frozen Icons accompany every sortie; at least one must witness each kill.

Comfy Cryo-Coffin reserved for the obstinate; one refusal, one eternal slumber.

Orbital Fire requires chorus approval—except by decree of the Prophet.

Internal strife is settled by Brand duel: loser gains a second scar—or the Coffin.

5 · Transgression & Penalty
Desecrating an Icon —> Immediate branding + public kneel.
Withholding praise in combat —> Strip of rank; forced march in vacuum.
Open heresy —> Cryo-Coffin without appeal.
Betrayal to outsiders —> Air-lock, then orbital strike on last known home.

6 · Amendment Clause
Only the Prophet may inscribe new verses into this Charter. Three Chosen may petition; one word from the Beak rewrites stone.

By ice, by silence, by crimson beak—so it is written. Praise Pico.