It was a warning, that finger that was pointing at the skies… a warning for the skies itself, for if it didn't answer at once to the finger that was pointing, a consequence could be dire – the endless skies as a whole could be obliterated if it didn't soon comply with the white-masked figure's request. The white-masked figure atop the ashen hill already asked politely after all; whispering a silent orison, the white-masked figure besought the skies to leave its Skygate ajar for but a moment, and 'heave down' its 'heavenly energy' in its most chaotic form,
Such a request that wasn't deemed as impossible in essence, yet that didn't mean such a request was supposed to be executed in the first place. Never, not even once, an existence wandering underneath the skies demanded such a request… yet between being obliterated into nothingness, the skies chose to bleed a little, as opening its Skygate felt like slashing its own 'celestial skin' in a way…
