It was a serene environment. A hill filled with blood and corpses of demon bugs.
The stench made the air difficult to breathe.
There appeared a creature, sitting atop a pile of corpses. It was as if his throne were made of corpses.
It looked lonely.
'Drip,' 'Drip'
It started raining again. The crimson waterdrops fell on it, bathing it in blood.
The creature stood at this place. It didn't know what it was or what the purpose of its existence was.
It didn't remember anything about its past.
But it was then that it heard the footsteps of someone approaching from behind.
He didn't need to turn to know that someone was approaching; it was because he felt a certain connection.
It was a connection way deeper than the one made by mortals; it was a connection between a creation and its creator.
