An artist of exceptionally poor health. His dream was large and misunderstood by the world, an ability to bring his creations to life with an ego of their own, created by none other than him. At times he may be mistaken for a god, but he sees himself as nothing but a pen or a chisel. His life goal is simply to fill the world with exceptional living pieces before the earth brings him back to dust. In a way, he believes his existence was never meant to come along, it's probably why the world has decided to make his health so poor and why at times he has a hard time remembering who those around him really are, it doesn't matter, all that matters is the art, and the form in his mind that refuses to take shape until the very end.
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