The world is broken and battered, and I mend it with a glimmer of light.
I mended the chaotic rifts leaking through the vault of heaven.
I mended the cancers of greed growing in people's hearts.
I mended the order of life and death, thrown into disarray by the cycle of reincarnation.
Yet some people refuse to see reason:
They tear apart the peace I wove with my heart and soul.
They shatter the trust I pieced together with sheer resolve.
They trample the balance I upheld through the passage of time.
A thousand repairs cannot undo a single malicious tear.
I set down my needle and thread and pick up a bloodstained blade. The last trace of tenderness in my eyes goes dark.
“If the world prefers to be broken, then I will no longer insist on mending it.
From this day on, I will be the fiercest wind, the sharpest blade,
and the destroyer who overturns this rotten order with my own hands.”
