What remains of a heart when it is wounded by the very hands it longed to protect?
When a loved one suddenly becomes the source of our doubts, our sorrow, and our pain.

What becomes of the soul when it can no longer bear its own reflection?
When one walks through life convinced of being nothing through the eyes of others.

What remains of a mother’s love when she sacrifices her child to grant them peace?
When a heart accepts to tear itself apart to keep the world from falling into ruin.

What becomes of the spirit when monsters begin to weep, and violence no longer destroys only the body, but the soul itself?

Then, only one question remains...