The World Keeps Spinning

The Holy Spirit Temple was silent. Serene moonlight fell from the stained glass windows, shining onto the various stone coffins. It illuminated the ancient and distinguished names. Dust floated in the air, dancing with the faint hymn. Singing from the distant church hung in the stillness, complementing the graveness of the coffins. At the front of the coffins, a lonely figure stood before the large altar. He wore the crown of utmost authority and a pure red robe. It seemed to have been dyed by blood but rather than feeling like 'death,' it represented the reverent 'life.'

This was the red that encompassed all meaning. This was the King of Red.

In the stillness, he looked at the altar and asked, "Is that what Hermes said?"

"Yes, Your Excellency." Nibelungenlied's voice was respectful. "He chose this path and did his best."