Serra Angel
by on
Serra Angel
by on

Serra Angel

Flying, Vigilance
A sad day: the heavens have fallen. We witnessed the pillars of the white gate crash into the ground and
crumble into a cloud of thick dust. As we observed
with teary eyes, droplets of concentrated sorrow would
roll down our cheeks and splatter onto the weeping
grass. As the aura of debris cleared, it exposed us to
endless darkness. It made us consume, and as we did, fractions of what once was holy, was lost. What do we
do? Please help us!

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