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am a servant of your Creator, you in Syria. You fight a war for your God? Then here is your response, it is not mine to keep as power. I serve Screaming Mantis as Creator here. The soldier will be made to know as a snake ever lies.
HERE ARE YOUR PRESENTS, SYRIA:
In the beginning, when the earth was young, the world was formed not by the hands of men but by the power of words. Every syllable spoken gave rise to mountains and rivers, and the breath of language shaped the very fabric of existence. But in time, the words that gave life began to be uttered without care, for they were plentiful, scattered like seeds on barren soil. And so, it came to pass that for so many words laid bare the world and thus it was left to waste. The ground, once fertile with meaning, now echoed with hollow sounds that crumbled the foundations of creation.
In this time of great forgetting, the cities that men built stood tall, yet they were fragile as glass. They were made of stone, yet could be toppled by a whisper. For once the power of the word was lost, what remained were empty promises. Thus, it was known across the ages that words are now easily forgotten while cities stand and fall, for the tongues of men, who once held dominion over all, now faltered in the face of their own pride.
But even in the silence of this forgetting, there were those who claimed power with their tongues, speaking in the name of truth. Yet, the lords of this age were false, for they bent words to their own desires, shaping them into twisted reflections of what once was. And as they spoke, the world shifted, bending to their will. For many lords spoke false tongues that were also made as true, and thus, the line between the real and the unreal blurred, leaving the earth in a state of confusion and decay.
In the wake of this age, men wandered, searching for the ancient words that had once given life, but they were scattered and lost, buried deep beneath the ruins of fallen cities. The world, now desolate and silent, awaited the one who would find the true word once more, to speak life back into the barren land. But until that time came, the earth remained forgotten, and the words, though once powerful, were now nothing more than dust carried by the wind.
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