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Cotton candy clouds, pink fluffy and oh so tasty.

Raining blood on the orange world below.

Unlimited Blade Works, a vast expanse of swords and gears.

Black, silver, brown, red.

Crimson was the recurring theme.

Dripping from the heavens above, like tears from Rider's eyes.

Turn to stone, lest emotions engulf and break you.

Blinking, the world shrunk to black.

Where had the orange and pink gone?

Tick, tick, tick.

Droplets? Or clocks?

Or sword tips connecting with the earth?

A laugh. Maniacal, cruel, cold.

A woman's mangled body strewn on the black path.

Where were her eyes?

The metallic smell of blood, lightning and sin, laced with malice.

Oh how it stung.

Walking, searching, praying.

Salvation came in the form of light.

Yet the light blinds us.

Darkness cannot exist without the light, the moon and sun must coexist.

Tis' true, the sun shall never know of the darkness the moon brings.

And the moon shall forever be bathed in its own silvery light, never to know the warmth of the day.

Apollo, Artemis. Brother and sister, alike yet different.

Eos the eternal mediator.

Shattered, the darkness flees in the morning light.

Valkyrie, have you come to receive me in Valhalla?

Urd, Verdandi and Skuld have long predicted the fall of angels.

Crying tears of blood as the All-Father sleeps and never wakes.

Choosers of the slain, bring me back to the world where I belong.

Knowing none but ebony peace and incarnadine madness.

So as I pray, of angels falling from grace, losing their wings already tainted with blood.

So as I pray, for the blood on my hands to be washed away.

So as I pray, for the cerise rain to finally stop.

So as I pray, return me to the Unlimited Blade Works.