[I teach you what it means to be a superman. Man is something that must be transcended. What have you done to transcend him?]
[Listen! I am the lightning that must often transcend itself! When I smash every coffin and gravestone, when I dance at the edge of cliffs, throwing rotten morality into the abyss—]
[Behold, in my madness resides wisdom clearer than all reason!]
[—Nietzsche, adapted from "Thus Spoke Zarathustra"]
...
All Living Beings converge.
The dark clouds churn an ashen vortex in the sky, as a clear day suddenly turns gloomy, descending a gentle drizzle like silvery sticky spider threads.
A black-haired youth stands amidst the twisted branches of the Elf Mother Tree, allowing the rain to soak his blood-stained brow. The towering red figure resembles a burning candle, twelve shadows sharp like knives.
The instant he uttered the world coordinates, the entire realm suddenly convulsed.
