(Warning: This Story Contains Profanity) Sypnosis: GOD OF HUMANITY. "There's no confrontation that leads to not a single loss of life." Told by a wise old man sitting beside a withered tree. "The gust of wind blows upon North, South, East, and West to describe the upcoming changes." He smoked his cigar, holding his breath. *BLOW* "How far gone can one person handle the weight of the world?" He stared at the sky, looking at the gathering dark clouds. "The wind today is rather cold than warm." He picked up his cane and stood with his back crouched forward. "Shall I tell you a tale? A history most forgotten by the glorified age. A world that was once sunk with chaos and deceit." The old man gazes back at the old tree, touching the charred trunk; he reminisces. "While my life has gone past its prime. I can still share with you the profound experience... which I've gathered for the past thousands of years..." "Listen well... for I won't be here when this story ends."