The curtains hinted with a glimpse of pale yellow when the sunlight struck them softly, reaching from behind the clouds of terror. Rain pattered against the glass of the window, whimpering away as the passing storm drew its course further – a storm driven by insanity and hatred as deep and foul as its creator. What possesses a squall mightier than the edge of a sword is to be determined only by the gods – gods and demons and subjects worthy of such destruction and chaos.

In the room alone, a room illuminated by the setting clouds and wakening to the rising sun, enough had been said to change the minds of thousands. But only few would bear witness to the fighting that had taken place. Inside, the echoes of pleas and bargains were excruciating and comparable to the ruckus beyond the glass of the window.

She could imagine all of them echoing inside her own mind, and she fought to ignore the words she never had to hear.

"You have geostigma… don't you?"

Words that would eat away at the mind…

"You're going to give up and die… is that it?"

… words that would eat away at the mind, and erode the sense of well-being, eroding the layers of pride and giving way to despair.

"Don't run… let's fight it together."

Thoughts that were once promising…

"We can help each other. I know we can!"

… thoughts that were once promising, uplifting and cherished as time claimed them to be, became submerged in a well of wishful thinking.

"I guess that only works for real families…"

Ideas were tossed away…

"… Not my family, not my friends… nobody."

… ideas were tossed away, falling through the air, tearing themselves apart in their own bath of blood and suicide.

"I know… even if you find the kids you might not be able to help them…"

Wisdom bore nonsense of another kind…

"Maybe something will happen that can never unhappen, that scares you doesn't it…?"

… wisdom bore nonsense of another kind, and fear was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

"But you need to think about now! Really take it in!"

Anger led to hatred…

"Sure… you might not answer the phone, but I don't see you throwing it away either!"

… anger led to hatred, and from that, hatred led to sorrow.

"Which is it…? A memory…? Or us?"

The punishment from within the shallow walls of past content was unveiled, and ripped aside, was a curtain with the drenching wake of the Lifestream's suffering. Choked to the point of harbor, the Lifestream helplessly awaited a vessel to assist it, instead of taking it away.

"Dilly-dally, shilly-shally."

And yet – truly – from deep within, she longed to understand what was likely to become of it. It was enough for Marlene to experience an urge to scream painfully beside Denzel, as he held her hand with hopes destined to fall.

A bunny wearing a vest of light blues and grays, held out its paws to the bear beside it, seated neatly on the wooden platform below the window.

Cur in gremio haremus?

Cur poenam cordi parvo damus?

Stella nobis non concessit

Parvus pulsus

Cor mortem ducens

Venarum pulsis in terramfluens

Vita mollis in stellam redeunt

Animam sacrificare necesse est?

Cur in gremio haremus?

Cur veniam petimus?

In terra fatali?