Sanctuary has simmered away into the Sun.

Sanctuary has simmered away into the Sun. No one bothers to put out the Fires anymore. No one sees the profit in it. The Sky turns dark like our souls. Part of me loves it. The billowing, black towers of smoke pay homage to our Continuing Insanity. Our Mighty Power blots out the Sun. The smell of chemicals consumes the flowers’ fragrance. The Oily Soot covers us in Glorious Grime. We are Rotting Beasts roaming the planet in Defiant Death. We are the gods of Doom.

Our Will be done.