Not Alive

How far can the Gods sense of humor reach, how far their cruelty? Sad macabre jokes, the Not-alive hide in another existence, parallel to that of who supposedly were their models, men. They hide and lie in wait for them, they hate them, they want to be like them, but their bodies made of shreds, cloth, wood and dead flesh will never reach fullness, they will never grow, they will never evolve, doomed to a perennial putrefaction that, oh sinister joke, is the fountain of their power. Little did the Serifan imagine that their failed experiment was going to develop into such force, such rage, such determination for imitating life, little could their imagine that they were going to build palaces and courts and that they would give themselves with debauchery to the useless game of life... and to the deadly game of War...

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