Advent of Mystics: Prologue

The lights cast a greenish hue upon the figure. He raised his hand as if to banish the world from existence. Something had been changed, an altercation without notice. He smiled with grotesque passion at his work. It was only a matter of time before his life, like so many other before him, would be rendered unto oblivion. He knew the truth; death has no avatar of emotion, only coldness.