In a world of bitter cultivation, precious moments of undisturbed joy often went unnoticed amidst the sea of blood, sweat, stress, and tears. While the two Ascended beings celebrated, the Chosen of the New World were flustered, vigilant, fearful, angry, desperate, or dying.
"Ahhh! Stop! STOP!! HELP ME!!!" A male Chosen roared as thorny vines enveloped him, encroaching upon every inch of his body with an ungodly vicious grip. The terrifying sounds of shattering bones, hellish screams, and the gushing spray of blood from their pores left one feeling horror.
He was young, extremely so, hopeful and inspired by the new era. But in all his youthful vigor, he never thought in his lifetime that he would experience this—death. His call for help had brought groups together at rapid speeds.
Unfortunately for the young man, no one made a move.
