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A lone man strutted near the perimeter of the church, his fist tightened over his heart and his face a sort of twisted exaggeration of human emotions only seen in theater performances. It was as if whoever was making the expression and the original owner of that particular set of facial features were two different people, in the same way a puppeteer's hand and a new glove he was stretching out adapted to one another. 

[color=lightgray]"Hear ye! Hear ye!"[/color]

The man's voice was nearly drowned out in its entirety by the chaos of war surrounding it. A puppeteer never sticks to one puppet, however.

[color=lightgray]"All who fight in the name of this great land! All who wish to destroy evil!"[/color] The second man sounded a lot like the first. Their features were identical, actually, but through careful tweaks to clothing and a noticeable pitch added to his voice, it was likely that no one would notice through the heat of war. 

The first man raised a cupped hand to his mouth and spoke once more.

[color=lightgray]"We must invade the church! There is nothing but corruption happening within!" [/color]

The second replied. [color=lightgray]"A great corruption of what once was pure!"[/color]

It was a classic technique. If two conmen seemed to be on different sides, it complicated matters to their advantage. Likewise, the second man favoring a more spiritual argument to compliment the first man's more practical, rebellious shouting added an organic touch to what might have otherwise been two parrots mindlessly repeating words. And Octavio had far more tact than that. 

A third illusion skulked near them, a silent guard meant to prevent any unfortunate interruptions. He stood beside a few other men who had been drawn in by the illusion's words and raised his weapon in a powerful motion. He furrowed his brow and took a moment to wet his tongue before speaking.

[color=lightgray]"What these men shout must be nothing short of the truth!" [/color] He turned to the other men and women nearby, trying to meet as many eyes as possible and respond to silent doubts with a thundering approval from a man who seemed to be just like them until moments ago. [color=lightgray]"We must storm the church!" [/color]

[color=ff6699]"Storm the church!"[/color] 

[color=ccff33]"We must!"[/color]

[color=ff0000]"Until our last breath!"[/color]

More voices, more weapons drawn. It was a disheveled and disorganized attempt at what an army was, but it was an army nonetheless. An army that was amassing quite a lot of new, stringless puppets. 

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[color=dde0c7]"We're getting quite a bit of progress here,"[/color] Octavio muttered, without moving a muscle. His eyes remained clamped shut and his hands remained on either temple. [color=dde0c7]"All a rockslide needs is a couple of good pebbles in the right direction."[/color]