As seven golden pearls glitter, a couple of voices speak silently...
VOICE 1: How did you turn your black into green?
VOICE 2: I don’t know. It just... happened. Out of the blue.
VOICE 1: Did you see the stars?
VOICE 2: Stars? No. Only their former selves, veiled in the mist of our nothingness.
VOICE 1: I don’t understand. Aren’t we supposed to be alive?
VOICE 2: Perhaps we are. Why don’t you ask your death?
VOICE 1: (reveals the true form of light and vanishes through a triangular rift in time)
Green Is in the Eye of the Withholder
Drama Queen and the King of Solitude