where does your light not shine?

you’re telling me that the guy that’s

a) a heavy smoker

b) sedantary lifestyle maxxing because he’s a banker (DESK JOB???)

c) struggling with a regular meal schedule (it’s documented in his medical files)

because looking at the regrator, who has grown into the ninth seat, centuries old, he may have still seen the pitiful beaten creature that fell into his hands and single-handedly talked him out of using him as a test subject, the cunning young man with not one wrinkle marring his forehead, the self-made hand that would soon be dealing mora throughout the lands.

i like to believe that with the final „goodbye, feofan. this time, that’s what it truly is.” he bid farewell not only to the regrator, but to the little magpie he still saw in pantalone, the lifelong partner uniform with the sharp-witted youth clearest in his memory.

an orpheus who wouldn’t turn around is an orpheus that would never go