p r o l o g u e

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This is a story. It is a short one, and it is a long one. It will be long for you, for you have not quite experienced this - but for us? For us, it was a moment in time, a moment of absolute bliss when things fell together in perfect harmony. 

From the very beginning, we were tangled up - our past, a tornado with us at the center; our present, a lost case but we were the saviours; our future, hopeless and fallen apart but beautifully written in the memories of the past.

This is our lost story, the one that led us to the light at the end of the tunnel and threw us into the tunnel itself. It is opposite, and it is similar.

And more so, it is written down in the ages for it began with us and it died with us, but it survived as a phantom in these darkened times through these words and pages. It is messy and it is chaotic and it wasn't very good for us, but we still never gave up on it.

Sacrifice will end us, and the fire of sacrifice will keep us breathing.

———

There is little to do anymore. The war has started, the war of light and dark. They are on the same side, trying to prevent each other from falling into the chasm of darkness. Hanging onto every thread of comfort they find, it is not long before the threads are cut by scissors controlled by human instincts. 

And they're falling, falling, falling. 

They fall past ledges, rough mountain surfaces, brambles and branches, but they cannot hang onto anything. The pale glow of the stars light up their lives as they fall apart, but stars only shine till they die.

Killed or be killed, that's the motto of the war.

dragonfly || d.m. [✔]Where stories live. Discover now