The flower fields were illuminated by golden light, and all impurities were cloaked in a layer of divine radiance.
The anticipated scorching heat did not arrive, yet the gardeners displayed expressions of pain greater than that of being burned; as the fireball descended, they gradually understood why their feet had suddenly stopped. Their bodies betrayed them, and when the golden glow fell upon them, they involuntarily prostrated themselves within the radiance.
What truly alarmed them was the discovery of a yearning from deep within their souls, just like the souls, twisted by pain, that were now being assembled.
As if...
They could bathe in sunlight too!
But how could this be?
They were followers of the Evil God Bajatos; they had discarded their identities, names, and all that pertained to them. They had willingly donned the gardener's uniform, burying one tortured soul after another in soil, only because it was the way to nurture the fruits of darkness.
