“If the ‘god’ you believe in is just a drop of poison someone placed in your eyes...” Xie Zhiheng gripped his trembling hand. His voice was as calm as a blade, yet burning hot. “...then what do all the pain and glory you’ve experienced amount to?”
“They were my choice.” Jiang Shu gazed at the doll he had once placed upon an altar. In his eyes lay only the desolation left by a fire. “...The illusion of an ordinary man who once came unimaginably close to heaven. Even if that heaven... was hell itself.”
Where reason sleeps, false gods are born in a hotbed of delirium.
They wear whispers as crowns and feed on fear, enthroned upon altars built of madness. The steps leading to those altars are paved with exquisitely sculpted bodies, and every step echoes with the fading remnants of humanity being stripped away.
He is a child of reason, chasing the light through the fog, convinced that behind every strange occurrence lies a thread of logic to follow.
He is a seer lost in the shadows, sinking through illusory light and worshipping a poison-soaked doll as the sole faith of his life.
When the blade of truth finally cuts open the belly of faith, people discover there is no divinity inside, only carefully mixed hallucinogens and the most twisted crystallization of human desire.
This is a grand mass hallucination, a precise poisoning of the soul.
What we have always knelt before is not a god, but the delusions we cannot lay to rest, carved into the most beautiful poison doll of all.
Please read, criminal investigation anti-religious article