It was an old age steeped in blood and fire.
The long night pressed on the city, and the mountains and rivers were broken.
The world was numb and silent, bowed its head to survive, and couldn't see any light in the darkness.
Until there are those who use flesh and blood as wages and their lives as fire,
In the execution ground, in the ruins, in the cold night, in desperate situations,
It ignited a light that refused to be extinguished.
When a spark ignites, mortal bones turn into torches, and tens of millions of people stand up from the dust.
Blood and tears pave the road, bones build the city,
The sleeping soul finally opened its eyes, and the silent people finally woke up.
Die with your life, awaken the world with your blood.
The mountains and rivers are broken, but the character remains intact.
In this world, gods descend from heaven,
Only the sleeping people opened their eyes in blood and tears and were reborn from the ashes.
There is no redemption in this world,
Only millions of ordinary people stand up from the ashes and move forward in despair.
Intention: When mortals cross by themselves, they become their own gods.
