A Strange thought occurs to you even as the barbed arrowhead that marks your End hurtles towards its target.
Time seems to pass so slowly,
in precious heart-measures of pulse and breath,
when savoured so close to patient Death.
Perhaps being surrounded by all the masks, the fluttering silks, the vermillion and scarlet of the dancing performers, the gongs and cymbals and zithers - perhaps this has conveyed a strange sense of theatricality and introspection upon your thoughts, a sense of foreboding.
It almost feels as if there been someone from afar who has been trying to warn you. Someone orchestrating an elaborate yet sinister game. You reflect upon how even as you wore the Golden Conqueror Helm
>>5345627>>5347377the Golden Helm that betrayed you to a sinister conspiracy that lay in waiting, ready to pounce, there seemed to be a voice from afar, crying out a warning, though its meaning was almost beyond understanding...
>>5346814 