The story reaches its peak during the "Year of the Drought." As the surrounding fields withered, the Cathedral remained the only place of activity. Vicente, desperate to maintain the "sanctity" of his production, began importing livestock from across the borders, pushing his workers to the brink of exhaustion.

Don Vicente Silvestre Mar was a man of iron will and singular vision. While his peers built cathedrals of stone to honor the divine, Vicente sought to build a temple to the primal. He envisioned a facility so efficient and grand that it would redefine the life cycle of the land. He didn't just see cattle; he saw the raw energy of the earth being transformed into the sustenance of a nation.

Vicente lived in a manor overlooking the yard, watching the "pilgrims"—the merchants and herders—arrive daily. He was a man of contradictions: a refined patron of the arts who spent his afternoons knee-deep in the logistics of the kill floor. He believed that to ignore the source of one’s strength was a form of spiritual cowardice.

On the night of a grand banquet held inside the main hall—a celebration of the facility’s tenth anniversary—a freak storm broke the heatwave. Lightning struck the iron vents of the roof. In the ensuing chaos, the heavy machinery groaned under the strain of a sudden power surge from the early electrical generators Vicente had installed.