The anger of love forced the statue to open its eyes; the paranoid maternal love made the child pick up the knife; 407 believed in the sacredness of reverence, turned into a ball of flames, and disappeared into the broken world...
"I was floating in the ethereal nothingness and saw the bad news coming."
All the weirdness and weirdness come from that shocking blood feast... A Hongmen blood feast that the memory does not want to reveal, who is real and who is fake. After all, I can't believe it.
Then let it rot there, on its long "travel"...
Purpose: I want to write a suspenseful story