Picturesque and grotesque, a painting I can classify only as Gothic or otherwise, a new form of art only for that moment at a conference hall in the Ministry of Justice could capture.
The hole in the ceiling let sunlight permeate the violently destroyed round table. Place thrashed in a mistake for tempest: broken walls and stained glasses towards vagabond souls grieving in the null space. Bodies of guardians and ministers limped, some dead and some breathing aggressively to escape absolute death.
Who stood at the center of the landscape: a tall man, sporting a ponytail standing on debris─in all likelihood, a seasoned combatant.
