(In the luminous garden of their divine sanctuary, vibrant flowers sway under the warm light of Shimbium, while gentle shadows linger at the edges, whispering the presence of Bidros. Bidros' voice echoes softly, like a distant storm) Shimbium, the winds of discord swirl among our people. The Cult of Life grows bolder in their denial of the inevitable, while the Cult of Death clings fiercely to the shadows. Is it not a mockery of our balance?
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