I don’t understand—I fell in love with Reverend Insanity because of its fresh outlook on life, its unique and intricate power system, and the beautifully crafted world it brought to life. It felt alive, full of soul and depth, like every detail had meaning and purpose. The story had this magical quality, like a mystical spell that kept my eyes unblinking, completely captivated by the brilliance of its power explanations and the way everything tied together.
But this new book feels different, as if the focus has shifted to making money rather than creating something truly impactful. Where is the soul that once drew me in? It was there before, so vivid and undeniable. Now, it feels like nothing more than meaningless conflicts—petty squabbles that add little depth, like threads pulling at each other without cohesion or purpose.
Still, I can’t bring myself to blame the author—it’s not entirely their fault. Perhaps the circumstances have changed, or external pressures have forced this direction. Regardless, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of loss for what it once was—a masterpiece that felt like it came from the heart.
