Oh media, we have no knowledge except that which you’ve bestowed upon us! Their truth remains stained by your falsified fiction; in the Society of the Concealed Sun, the shadows provide the only truth you know.
Hoyoo Ma Talo. She went to buy some milk, left the war and now her…
My last few months as a citizen of the country were spent in an old industrial factory only about a mile from the southernmost edge of the border. Every day I would arrive to work at six in the morning and leave at six in the evening. I had a trusted friend there who would tell me about how other people escaped and helped me formulate the last details of my own Tahriib act.
The sea exhales the cold air of the North, and Nomads pray not to meet Poseidon’s wrath before hearing the windy lullabies of European coastlines. The delicate murmurs of the winds, now coloured with a more urgent desperation, surround them. The fear of drowning no longer constrains them.