As the sounds of despair spread, the cabin doors opened one by one.
Figures in simple, shabby clothes staggered out, still muttering, "Despair..."
They slowly lifted their heads, their vacant eyes fixed on the red moon high in the night sky. Spreading their arms as if to embrace its radiance, the dull looks on their faces slowly melted into blissful smiles.
"Luno, Luno, Luno..."
Then, as if they were puppets, their whispers swelled into roars. Their language shifted from common Oldes to the more bizarre and complex Gonzalez.
"Dawn will pass, the Red Moon will endure."
"A final dirge is sung, all creation withers away."
"May we be Red Moon Servants for all eternity..."
"May the radiance of the Lord of the Red Moon shine upon the world forever, and may all the world's falsehoods become an eternal nightmare..."
"The Lord of the Red Moon will at last descend, bringing salvation... or destruction..."
