A man loses his soul only when it dies from a long hunger.
A hungry soul falls into the icy emptiness, where death awaits.
But once in a thousand times, before disappearing forever
the soul briefly lingers in the Void.
One can only get his soul back if it opens to Color,
accepts it, and understands its meaning and purpose.
Then the soul will be able to turn death back,
and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.
Through their righteousness, the Brothers proved they were worthy of a place in the Void.
The brothers climbed up from the depths, from a realm where Color is unheard
of, where the mind itself denies Color's existence.
Their act of faith was great, and it earned them their paradise.
And here they law Lympha of Color, their image of a powerful god.
There is no greater reward for a true believer, than to become the keeper of
heaven. The brothers have surely earned their reward and the power of their law
is now nearly infinite.
Some see Color as food. Others see it as fuel.
And some feel an autonomous will within and tremble, and think, and wonder —
can't it be pleased with a sacrifice?
Some are thankful to just keep the crumbs. Others spend while it lasts.
But everyone wants the same — plentiful Color forever.
Can it be summoned? Can it be created?
Is anyone given the gift to hear it and understand what it needs?
The one who refused the Color is gone now, dissolved in the cold.
Because when one loses one's soul, one loses the possibility of eternal life.
Who would willingly give away their Color to someone else?
What can be more frightening than death within death?
The Sister's silent death tore down every principle that the Void dwellers had
come to believe in.
It's taboo to give away Color in the Void.
Self-sacrifice is an unknown concept here.
But it's not the fact that such a deed is possible that enraged the Brothers
and terrified the Sisters.
But the premonition that from now on — it will be the only way.
There's a clear border between suicide and self-sacrifice, leading to a fatal
emptying. Color doesn't want a sacrifice.
Suicide is unacceptable. But the Rite of Devotio is inevitable when it comes
to creating. Color doesn't know pity.
The previous Limit must be drained completely, so there is enough meat for the
incarnation of the next.
Only by this price everything new is created.
Turgor, the ultimate state of tension, will turn a man into a drawn and tightened bow.
Is it possible that, through tremendous force, an arrow could be sent far
beyond the Limits of this bow?
Is it truly possible that, even if the bow collapses from the monstrous shot,
even if the cost is the bow's destruction, the arrow might pass beyond the
point, where not even gravity retrieves it?
The answer to this question is — no. Most likely, it's impossible.