Clouds descend as mist, flames rise as smoke,
All things possess a nature and follow that very essence.
A person may ascend endlessly or fall into perpetual decline.
For clouds descend as mist, and flames rise as smoke,
Thus light poured in, and love arrived here.
Over the vast Festival Lake,
A crowd was abuzz, instantaneously sinking into a collective terror.
Our Envoy... why must she repent so profoundly?
After the shock, they looked at each other, an indescribable panic spreading rapidly.
Festival Lake fell into a lamentable silence, the Believers casting occasional glances at Pastor Flora, hoping for an answer from her.
What has our Envoy... endured?
Why do her words tremble so?
Why can't we hear the firm conviction we expect in her voice?
The day of Prophecy fulfillment arrived, they chanted Scriptures day after day, living in heresy, only for today, how could it lead to such an outcome...
