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Darkness takes its toll, blindfolding the living with a thick veil of uncertainty and forebodings, weapons that don't hurt the flesh but the mind. The night, its comrade, protects the childrens of Hell with tender arms as it guides them to the feast, where you and I are the main dishes. For us the preys, hope resides in a great sphere in the dimming sky that offers the leftovers of the Sun, light to our spirits. Faraway, where the arms of earth block the Moon, Sen recognizes himself as a friendly believer, fan of what a shadow can do for you.
Alone, surrounded by the gloomy atmosphere of his shack, Sen rejoices in the dark, swinging on the thin line between joy and fear and all sins, as if he was finally the lord of his destiny, conqueror of the seven seas. The fact that he's incapable of finding his own feet indicates that it is time, any responsability fades away with the murder of his consciousness.
With his senses empowered by the complete blackening of his perception he inhales and laughs, everything feels weightless, he is now floating in space.
Dancing in the darkness every threat sounds like a joke, Infected are clowns, Survivor are lions trained to jump from one platform to another. In his circus, where colorful confetti crown his head, the lethal touch of a weapon means nothing, the rub of a petal against his skin. Sen is in the clouds, away from the refuge seen in shadows from the outside.
"Wait a minute... Jinah... Jinah?" A name, a quiet "click" in the back of his mind, is he missing something? is there more beyond the laughter and rainbows?. The weapons on a corner of his house are screaming for his attention but he's long gone, Sen will keep on dancing until the Sun replaces the Moon.
In his mind, Jin-ah is a performer of his circus.
