atomiste.

empty fields of shame. this is the story of when we saw the sun for a final time. at this point we were unable to see what was making our crops die and why the atmosphere was filling with death and regrets. "am I alive or am I already dead?" the people then roamed over the lands, leaving a trail of unwanted memories that only made it harder to say goodbye. some are still dancing with their past self in these wooden ballrooms, unaware if their borthers and sisters were burning outside. if they only knew how bad things really are. the story ends as the mass of our broken souls learned to speak, and we told ourselves one final thought, our epilogue. "you fool, you could have prevented this."