"If the 'god' you believe in is just a drop that someone else dropped into your eyes,
Poison..." Xie Zhiheng held his trembling hand, his voice was as calm as a knife, but hot, "... Then what do all the pain and glory you have experienced mean to you?"
"It's my choice." Jiang Shu looked at the doll that he had enshrined on the altar, and his eyes were filled with desolation after burning. "... As a mortal, I have been extremely close to the illusion of heaven. Even if that heaven... Itself is hell."
Where reason slumbers, false gods are born in the hotbed of delirium.
It uses whispers as its crown, feeds on fear, and sits on an altar built of madness. The stairs leading to the altar are paved with carefully carved bodies, and every step echoes the reverberation of human nature being stripped away.
He is a son of reason who chases light, trudging through the fog, firmly believing that there must be a thread of logic behind all the weirdness.
He is a person with spiritual vision who is addicted to the darkness, falling in the illusion of light, and enshrining the idol soaked in poison as his only belief in this life.
When the edge of truth finally cuts through the belly of faith, people discover that there is no divinity in it, only carefully prepared hallucinogens and the most twisted crystallization of human desires.
This is a grand collective hallucination, a sophisticated poisoning of the soul.
What we kneel down to worship is never God, but the most beautiful poisonous doll carved out of our own inability to place our delusions.
Please read, criminal investigation anti-religious article