I give you poor streets, desperate sunsets, and ruined suburbs moons. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

I give you the sorrow of a man who has been looking at the lonely moon for a long time.

I give you my dead ancestors, whose ghosts are remembered in marble: my father, who died in the city of Meri, whose body was chopped up by the demon of the crypt, died with his beard, and the soldiers found him only half of his face, and my grandfather, who was twenty-four years old at the time of three hundred soldiers, in the desert of Gotas, became the lonely ghost of the fanged mouthparts of the worm of death.

I give you all the insight that I have written in my poems, the masculinity or the humor that I can have in my life.

I give you the loyalty of a man who has never had faith.

I'll give you the core of myself that I've managed to preserve -- the core of not making sentences, not trading with dreams, not being touched by time, joy and adversity.

I give you the memory of a yellow rose that I saw one evening many years before you were born.

I give you your explanation of yourself, your own theories, your own true and amazing news.

I give you my loneliness, my darkness, the fear of my heart.

I move you with confusion, danger, and failure, and I comfort you.

- Excerpt from "The Monologue of a Rundown Suburb", by anonymous author

The traces of life in time and space are like the tracks left by a light, and most of them are like the stars densely spread in the sky in the night, shining with cold light.

However, there is no starlight tonight.

The sky was tinted orange by the blazing flames, the clouds were layered on top of each other, the cascading texture was like a thick shroud, and the sultry air was scorching with blood.

I don't know how many people will look up to the sky at this moment, only to find that their lives are more obscure than happy, many people are eager to stand in line before they are born, and unfortunately many more people do not have many choices in their lives.

Death mostly doesn't give you time to say goodbye.

The Crypt Demon wielded a blade-sharp forearm, slicing wildly at everything it came across, shattered chain mail wrapped around its flesh stuck on a barb, blood still steaming.

A young two-handed sword warrior fell to the ground, a desperate look on his resolute face, the death scythe of the Crypt Demon at hand, its bare face full of pus seemed to show an evil smile, and the hot blood could give its cold body the greatest satisfaction.

Suddenly, a bright white light streaked through, and it was a ball of lightning like a small sun, which exploded on the huge spider-like forelimbs of the crypt demon, and the powerful force directly shattered the hard shell, bursting out a disgusting green liquid and bringing up a fishy green smoke.

The light was so sudden, so dazzling that the warrior had to stretch out his arm to block it, and the splattered liquid landed on the armguard, and the warrior quickly took off the armguard, rolled to one side, and then swung his two-handed sword at the burrow demon who had choked to the ground.

With the sound of bones rubbing, the ugly head of the crypt demon rolled to the ground, and its pure black pupils stared at the orange-red sky, glowing with a lifeless luster.

The warrior held his sword in his hands and looked at the beautiful figure, a light intermediate magician, his silver-white mage robe stained with a lot of blood, but the pretty figure was as beautiful as a rose in the ruins, to him, it was his angel.

The mage smiled, her hair sticking to her ears with sweat, and she reached out to her ear, and a line of blood ran from the mage's thin left shoulder to her right ribs.

The warrior's eyes widened, and before he could react, the beautiful figure suddenly split in half, and dripping blood spurted out high, and blood was everywhere on the rubble pillar beside the mage.

"No !!" the warrior roared in despair, his eyes instantly bloodshot, and the blood vessels in his forehead swelled out.

Then the earth trembled, shaking violently like the end of the world, and many people could not even stand on their bodies, and the already fragile buildings collapsed one after another, and for a time dust flew and rocks fell everywhere.

Mutations are raised, and terrifying forces wantonly rage in the space to ravage everyone's hearts.

It was an irresistible dominant force.

All the people from the different camps who were fighting stopped in unison, and even the few evil summoned creatures were stunned, and they looked into the distance together.

Under the night dome, a huge figure was slowly crawling out of the ground.

Above the figure was a thin, inconspicuous figure, whose ornate robes had long since turned into tattered strips of cloth, revealing a scarred body through the hole.

It was Noah, who looked down coldly, like a king in the world, and the figure of the Sith was as small as an ant.

The two dark warriors were bounced away by the tremendous force, and they didn't know where they landed.

Avril was standing behind the Sith with a sad face, she didn't understand how that guy named Noah could have such a powerful power, just now Noah was even named to kill her, looking at the huge figure as terrifying as a god, she knew that everything was in vain resistance, she began to regret it a little, obviously she didn't have to provoke him.

I can't escape the fate of death, so I am naturally a little sad.

She looked at the black figure, the huge demon horn pierced the night sky, and the scarlet gaze was like the only color in the entire world, it was the demon lord from the demon world, and the huge black flesh wings instigated a distorted air current.

She looked up slightly and saw the black robe bulging in the wind.

Only she knew how terrible the thin body under the black robe was, but the Sith seemed to be rooted, standing in front of Avril, without any movement or words, just standing in front of her, resisting the wind and rain of the whole world for her, and even death.

The balance of power is so huge that I'm afraid that even the Divine Dragon doesn't have such an aura.

Destruction, endless destruction, unstoppable destruction.

No one in this world can face such a terrifying existence, maybe the Holy High Priest Dream Helen can?

However, it was just a guess, and countless complicated thoughts passed through her heart one by one, and she suddenly wanted to end it like this, but she didn't know where it came from, and she couldn't get rid of it, so she wanted to bypass the Sith and move forward.

A thin, blued hand grasped her tightly, and she looked at them and burst into tears.

In this not too long and not too short time, the Sith did not move, nor did Noah, he knew the consequences of the demon contract, his soul would be taken by the demon, and since then he has become a puppet of the demon's walking time.

A powerful life mark and a desire for revenge can summon a powerful demon, and the moment the demon appears, it is already communicating with his consciousness, and the reason why he is not moving at the moment is just that the two are communicating.

Obviously, the demon immediately proposed another contract to Noah's soul because he could not or could not take Noah's soul.

If you get close enough, you will find that the originally round and fair-skinned Noah has become a skeleton at this time, the skin on his face is tight, like a transparent skin attached to the skull, the blood vessels below are clearly visible, the eye sockets and mouth are deeply sunken, and the cheekbones are protruding, like a dry old man who is dying.

This time Noah had prepared for the summoning of the demon to draw on his life force, but he thought that obtaining the Death Blade would be enough, but the contract proposed by the demon made him ponder.