Fate's Crucible [HOPE.]

We feel the changing of the tense. Heat rolls from furnace mouths like stale beer from passed digressions and sleepless nights. Careful, says the master, hold it steady. Souls are entrusted with minimal down payments; bargains made with abyssal leaders are only fairytales. Molten spirit graces the primed crucible. <br><br>This is the place were fates are made.