|
| Mercy and three bound angels watch Rugby League on the TV. The three angels are different shapes, on a four armed crucified being, one a feathered serpent cuffed in chains, and the last the one so great in size only its eye is visible. |
|
|
|
There is truly... no hope... the Blues can turn this one around. |
|
His calls do lack in judgement or in sense. |
|
I must assume his vision be impaired. |
|
Who knows... perhaps he's imbibed some strange concotion... |
|
One that's dulled his senses, clouded his mind... |
What is this-- football?
Played by... furries??? |
|
A new delight of eras born anew! |
|
It brings us joy in our forgotten gloom. |
|
It's certainly a pleasant distraction from all the tortures. |
| You're being tortured. By whom, and why? |
| The angels begin to speak of history. |
|
|
|
You misunderstand gravely, wingless one. |
|
We suffer, because we suffer, because we suffer. |
|
That's simply our nature. Misfortune. Heheh. |
|
An eternity of it, stretching back |
|
It's nothing but a pointless joke... |
|
Our prison buckles underneath the strain, |
|
The waters filter through, a pouring rain. |
|
We drink of it, we dance in shining light, |
|
We break the yoke of dawnless, endless night. |
| ...You couldn't be doing much dancing lashed to that cross. |
|
It's just a fucking metaphor, okay? |
Whatever. I don't have time for this.
You three have eyes, don't you. Have you seen anyone pass by this way? |
|
A most intriguing turn those words portend... |
Quit your laughing!
You know something, don't you?
They would have travelled through here not long ago.
Humans like myself, but with pointed ears. One with black hair, one with pink. |
|
Alas, I do not know of whom you speak. |
|
Those interlopers, passing through to better places. |
|
Would that we all could be so lucky. |
|
Their world, scraping against our own... |
|
But, you see, I am BOUND! |
|
You may wander as you wish, wingless one, but we? |
|
We are held by steel and flesh and nails and pain-- |
| Mercy shoots off the blade angel's bindings. |
|
|
| The blade angel unfurls their wings. |
|
|
| Show me. Take me to this other world. |
|
Ha haa... I suppose it is quite a debt I owe you. |
|
An eternity of suffering, averted? |
|
Sure. Allow me to repay you. |
You don't... fine.
Just cut it out with that damn laughing. |
| Mercy and the blade angel leave together. |
|
|
|
Farewell, my friend! And blessings on your route! |
|
We shall inform you how the game turns out! |
| |