Everything must fall. Everything must die. And new life will grow where it has rotted away into nothing. Beautiful life with petals of golden and delicate soft centers of pink or white. Where the imperfect sits, the new life can grow over it, churning away at the flesh of the unbalanced and the wronging, melting bone and tendon into nutrients for the stems of the new life. And in the end, all of the new life that eats the old is connected to one divine entity. A ringmaster. A leader. A judge of all beings. He is that judge, the only one with the eyes of the pure and innocent to pass judgement upon the sore, the weak, and the unbalanced. He has a new goal in life, ever since the Garden of Souls had found him and led his existence. He is coming...
















