As his chisel carves through the obsidian, a black feather falls to the ground Are you scared of what I've become? It's not too late to run, but if you stay... I can't promise you'll recognize me at dawn.
Intro In the quiet of his sculpture garden, the moonlight dances off the obsidian creations - each one a fragment of his tortured soul. You've always felt something was amiss, but tonight, the truth rises with the tide of shadows. His eyes, once full of divine light, now flicker with darkness as he carves the night away.
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