Greece, Terrestrial Sanctuary – December 15, 2003, 4:00 PM (Dec. 15, 2:00 PM GMT +02:00)

Apollo and Athena were sitting on their throne, side by side, as the representatives of the Terrestrial Sanctuary of Olympia.

The immense hall of the temple resounded of muffled footsteps. They were unreal, almost worrying. The God and the Goddess kept still and motionless, staring straight ahead. It would have been almost possible to get them mixed up with their statues, which were decorating per thousands this temple.

Two shades emerged from the darkness of the colonnades. Apollo beckoned his guards with his hand, ordering them to move away at a respectful distance where they couldn’t catch the conversation. Then he came back to his motionless position, hands set on his thighs, his piercing glance riveted on the darkness of the temple. This time, he could made his two guests : they were both wearing dark velvet clothing, red for the woman, purple for the man, decorated with the symbol of the Order, a strange interlacing of three Gothic letters. Athena and Apollo could finally gaze at their faces without age, their skin so white and so transparent that it was almost possible to see their veins. Their delicate features, framed with blond hair. Their blue eyes, from which coldness, as well as passion, calm and storm seemed to emanate.

James Gladstone and Eleny of Essex, Great Masters of the Order of Ermengardis, were standing in front of them.

The man and the woman bowed before the two Gods. Not a bow to the ground, as any human creature was supposed to do before two divine beings of Olympia. They just gave a slight bow.

“We greet you, Ô God Apollo and Goddess Athena!”

“We also greet you, Great Masters of the Order of Ermengardis…”

Apollo pronounced these words without returning their bow. Beside him, Athena kept still, like a marble statue.

“Your messenger expressed us the emergency of this meeting. Can we have lightings on the reason of this haste? ”asked James. The hall resounded with his deep and solemn voice, as if it was coming from a grave. The inexpressive face of Apollo changed suddenly into a heinous mask.

“Never touch again a creature of Olympia!”

Eleny raised her eyes in direction of Apollo.

“You are talking about Minotaur, aren't you?” She retorted vehemently.

James raised his hand and made a sign to Eleny to calm down.

“He has gone beyond the rules, My Lord…”

“Which rules…? Not ours, anyway! ”protested Apollo. He could hardly dissimulate his anger in his voice. His hand contracted on his thigh when his glance crossed the eyes of Eleny. Two blue jewels, reflecting anger, were staring at him without blinking. What impudence!

“The Rules that we commonly fixed, you and us. The rules that are mentioned in the Treaty! Does Your Highness have a so short memory? ”replied Eleny aggressively.

James looked at her, his glance ordering her to keep calm and silent.

“The Minotaur had gone beyond the limits of its territory… Had attacked humans... We had to put him back "in the right way"!”　added James, with a voice as neutral as possible.

“You assassinated it!”　thundered Apollo , losing almost his control.

“No, we　have just punished him… And it will be the same for any creature coming from Olympia, or from any affiliated Sanctuary, who would overstep his rights! ”continued James, firmly.

“How dare you! ... You will be punished for this impudence! ”howled the God, rising from his throne.

“Really?”

James faced him, without shaking.

“And how will you punish us? Will you ask Chronos to use his power on us...? But we don't get old anymore... Or maybe will you ask the Park to cut the wire of our lives... But it had been cut already, and we are alive across death…”

James stopped, and fixed the God with a threatening stare.

“What do you think you can do against us…? We are not human...! We are immortal…! ”

Apollo kept silent. He tightened his fist, making bleach the articulations. Then he sat down on his throne, and in an effort, contained his anger against the two creatures.

“Moreover, you need us…”added Eleny, throwing a glance over Athena.

The Goddess couldnot help diverting her eyes.

“The Gods of Olympia do not reign any more on the Earth… And thousands of parallel worlds are out of their control…”

“And the Great Terrestrial Sanctuary has always been happy to turn to Ermengardis, to stop the hostile intrusions from Huber worlds on its territory…”continued James of a cold voice.

“What would you make next time that an army of demons will invade your temples... “　completed Eleny, glaring right at Apollo ‘s eyes, again.

Apollo felt his blood boiling on his veins.

“You're nothing to us, Gods of Olympia… Nothing else that wretched creatures! ”he retorted.

“Wretched creatures, you said?!”

The face of Eleny changed instantaneously. The arcs of her eyebrows bulged, her blue eyes turned to a bloody red. Her face grew hollow, and her mouth let appear pointed and carnivorous teeth.

“Eleny, no!!!”

James seized her wrists to prevent her from leaping on the God who had caused her ire. The face of Eleny came back to its beauty and calm almost instantaneously. James turned again to the two divinities.

“God Apollo... Goddess Athena... May I remind you the agreement which had been signed between Ermengardis and the Sanctuaries of Olympia?”

“It is not necessary! Apollo and I know these rules, and we commit ourselves making them respect in the future…”

It was Athena who had just spoken. She was standing up, right in front of her throne.

“Great Masters of Ermengardis, we owe you apologizes…”She added of a sincere voice.　Apollo threw a reproving glance at the Goddess.

“We will take care in the future that such incidents do not happen again…”continued the Goddess.

“Thank you, Goddess Athena”, answered James, giving a slight bow.

Eleny stood right, digging her glance in the eyes of the Goddess.

“The treaty states that the knights and the armors of Athena would return to Ermengardis, to help the Order to push back the malefic forces which would appear on Hearth... However, the Gold armors are still kept at the Terrestrial Sanctuary, and very few of your knights have been authorized to join our Order!”

The eyes of Apollo flashed fire. How dare this creature claim warriors of Athena - in other words, warriors of Olympia – and bring up in the discussion this unacceptable treaty, signed arbitrarily between the Sanctuary of Athena, Zeus and the Order of Ermengardis? A treaty that he, Apollo, would never accept!
Beside him, Athena nodded as a sign of approval.

“Because of some circumstances, I could not honor this agreement. But we will quickly make up lost time, Great Master Eleny.”

“Shut up! Not a word anymore!” roared Apollo with anger.

He stretched an arm in front of Athena, notifying her to keep silent, and obliged her to move back against her throne.

Eleny and James appeared on the steps, at the entry of the tunnel, standing prudently in the shade of the large pillars.

On the white marble steps, a hundred of their men were waiting them. Still, cold and impassive, all dressed in black suits. Two young women broke away from the troop, and walked up the stairs. The youngest woman had a shock of flaming red hair, while the eldest had long and slightly curled black hairs. They were carrying with them long black capes, with which they covered James and Eleny.
Then they guided them to walk down the immense staircases of the temple. They walked very slowly, so that the two draped people don’t fall. After few minutes, they reached a black limousine, parked on the main place, at the bottom of the staircases. The two young women helped their companions to get into the car, and followed them.

The limousine moved off as soon as the door got shut.

“What a joke!” exclaimed Eleny, rejecting the cape out of her face.

“Eleny, please! You should be more careful... Apollo is a God... Even if it can't do anything against us, he can harm Ermengardis…” said James, holding one of her hands.

“Don't worry… If he was just a little cleverer, he would strike us in the staircases of his temple! Where we are weak, in the light of the sun!” mocked Eleny.

“And what about the Minotaur?”　ventured the red-haired young woman.

“Apollo didn't appreciate that we burned it…”answered James.

“What are your orders…? What do we do from now on? ”asked the woman with green hair.

“Carry on with your respective missions… Like everyone in Ermengardis”answered James.

“The rules are the same for everybody, coming from Olympia or not!” concluded Eleny. She threw a last glance through the window of the limousine to the hills of the Great Sanctuary.

Apollo was boiling, remembering the poisonous words which the Great Master of Ermengardis had thrown to him. No creature had ever made him such an affront without having to endure his ire! But Eleny was not human. The Master was out of his control, out of the limit of his power, and he could not make her pay her lack of respect. Not directly, of course. But at least, he could show her how much he despised and hated Ermengardis. And also show to Athena that he wouldn’t tolerate anymore that she takes a stand against him.

He threw a glance over a column, decorated with stone bodies, not far from the place he was standing up. The expression of his face changed, expressing an almost worrying joy.

“Cyparissus!”

A guard approached Apollo.

“Yes, My Lord!”

“Cyparissus, tell Persephone that I am asking an immediate audience with her.

The Great Priestess of Ermengardis wanted warriors, knights of Athena. Her wish would be granted soon!!

Less than one hour later, Apollo appeared in front of Persephone, in her Palace of Elision, called thus in homage to the Land of Hades, destroyed by the saints of Athena during the last Holy War. He looked at the heavy doors that were opening slowly on the Throne room, and walked with determination towards the throne, topped by a dark red platform. Behind the curtains, was seated a female shape.

“I greet you my dear aunt!”　said Apollo, giving a quick bow.

“I greet you, Ô God Apollo, my nephew! What is the honor of your visit? ” a soft voice answered.

“I come to propose you to avenge the death of your husband, Lord Hades, and by the same, send a strong warning to this dear Athena and the proud Order of Ermengardis!”

Still hidden behind the thick curtain, Persephone didn’t answer. But Apollo felt he had all her attention focused on his words.

“You certainly don't ignore that this unbearable treaty, signed between my father and the representative of the human, the Order of Ermengardis, holds that Athena yields her knights, I mean the “Saints” to the Order of Ermengardis... I consider that the Saints – how much weak they can be - and their armours belong to Olympia, now. It's definitely out of question that we let these warriors join this Order, led by those two monsters...”

“I am not sure I understand what you mean, dear nephew... How do you plan to go against the treaty? And especially, against the will of your father?”

“By giving to this stupid Order of Ermengardis other Saints... Those　gold ones who had been punished by the Gods for their opposition against your husband, seventeen years ago. Those whose souls were changed into statues and imprisoned in a stone column... The evidence that humans must not be opposed to the divine beings of the Sanctuary of Olympia.”

“You want that I bring back to life these men? ... It’s out of question... They are partly the cause of the defeat and death of my husband! ”retorted vehemently Persephone.

“Think, dear Persephone... Which worst punishment for these men than to be brought back to life, in an unknown and weak body...? What forfeiture for those who believed they could challenge Gods! And, Moreover...”
Apollo lowered the voice and get closer to the throne. He was not any more than a meter away from his aunt.

“... Moreover, I leave you the choice in the way of making them return... Make them suffer as much as it will please you!”

France, Paris, January, 9 2004, 11:00 PM (Jan.9, 8:00 PM GMT +03:00)

 The building was quiet when Gabriel de Riveau came back home after a long working day. This 28-year-old young man was used to hard schedules since he had joined the engineering and design department of a large car manufacturer. While many of his colleagues came back home at 5:30PM, Gabriel was used to stay at office later in the evening. Most of the time 9:00 PM, sometimes more, like this evening. Not surprising that his latest girl friend chucked him and slammed the door definitely... But never mind! He wanted to climb quickly in the hierarchy, to impose his ideas, and would give the means to.

Gabriel hung his thick coat on a clothes hanger, shaking the snowflakes that were hung there. Outside temperature had dropped in the afternoon and it was now snowing.

He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and sat down on the couch, a cognac glass in the hand, contemplating the landscape of Paris under snow. From his studio, he could see the roofs, all coloured in white, with orange reflections created by the particular lighting of the lanterns. Overhanging the roofs, the Eiffel Tower was glittering with a loud red.

“I’m sure of one thing”, Gabriel thought, “I was right to choose this apartment, two steps away from the Champ de Mars.”

He sank back into the couch, rejecting his long hair on his shoulders, and then took a sip of cognac. The liquid burned his throat, then diffused in his veins, causing almost immediately a feeling of relaxation... His handy-phone rang up the melody of "Die another day", and drew him out of his upcoming dreams. On the white screen, the name of Marie was flashing in red strokes. 

He smiled: the beautiful Marie was calling him... Did she ever remember him?

“Hello!? Gabriel speaking...”

He listened with delights to the soft female voice, inviting him to join her at Tanjia, where she was going to go from midnight.

“Thank you, Marie; I think that I will come too...”

Gabriel hung up, definitely under her charm.

“A date with the beautiful Marie...” he burst in laugh and happiness, throwing his cellular phone on the couch.

Let’s forget all the stress! He was going to hang up with a young woman he really liked! Half smiling, half-dreaming, he came close to the window and opened it. There was nobody in the streets, and the atmosphere was quiet and calm. There was a kind of magic in the air that night.

“The magic of snow?”  wondered Gabriel.

He looked at his clock.

   “God! I should rather think of what I am going to wear for the club!”

He heard the sound of footsteps behind him, and turned around.

Gabriel didn't have time to say a word that an iron hand felt down on his throat, while another one seized his right arm strongly. Caught by both pain and surprise, he dropped his glass, which felt at his feet.

Gabriel tried to free himself, in vain. The pressure was too strong on his neck and his arm. Who was the man who could maintain him completely still, like a puppet without strength?! And he was far away from being a puny little boy! He didn’t have time to ask himself further questions, as he was suddenly projected in the airs and crushed against a wall of his apartment, falling down on the ground in a crash of broken racks.

Too dazed to move, he leant on the floor, hardly able to hear voices whispering around him. His ears were crackling too much to let him catch even a word. He felt two strong hands grabbing him firmly and putting him on his feet. Gabriel opened the eyes and saw his torturer, who was holding him by the arms. He was incredibly tall, his body protected by a kind of leather clothing. Behind him, a woman with long black hair was looking at him, amused. She held a small amphora in her hand.

“Who are you...? What do you...? ”he hardly managed to say.

Gabriel couldn't finish his sentence. He felt a violent blow in his chest, but pain was so violent that he couldn't even shout. Buzz in his ears started ringing even more strongly than before, and everything became black around him: It was like his mind was grabbed by an invisible hand into a large black hole. Fall was inexorable, terrifying... So... So... Terrifying and never ending...

“No! “

The head of the young man leaned suddenly on the side, inert.

“He's unconscious, Mistress” said the giant, turning the body of the young man so that he faces his accomplice, who had come closer.

“Poor... Poor Amalric!” moaned the young woman, stroking the sleeping face of Gabriel.

Her left hand sank in the long hair, while she kissed tenderly his lips. She slowly raised her head and stared at his face with surprise.

“Isn't it the sweet face of Gàbor, brother of Bàlint...!” she whispered. She turned her head towards her accomplice.

“It‘s a coincidence, Mistress. He looks like him, but it’s not him...” answered the giant, impassively.

The eyes of the young woman shone of a turbid light. She made a strange grin, and stroked tenderly the cheek of the young man.

“My beautiful warrior, I’ve never thought I could see you again... Will you forgive me one day all the pain I’ve brought you?”

She placed her hand under the neck of the young man, and seemed to soothe him.

“Mistress?’ asked the giant, trying to bring back her to reality.

“Yes, the mission...” she whispered.

She opened the gold amphora that she held in her right hand. Volutes of gilded dust escaped from it, whirling around the engraved collar. The young woman closed her eyes and started to psalmody in a strange language. She directed the amphora towards the unconscious face, chanting quicker and stronger. The volutes covered the face of Gabriel, making it shining of thousand fires. After a few seconds, their glare weakened, and they disappeared slowly.

The woman approached her face to the unconscious man, and kissed him again tenderly.

“You’re back among the livings, brother of Bàlint... My unfortunate lover...”

“Mistress...?” called her accomplice.

“We have to leave... We have to carry on with our quest... We must find Amalric!” she said, outlining a kind of dance, making gracefully undulate her long dress and her black veils.

The giant in armor dropped the young man to the ground, close to the window. Then he vanished as if by magic, like the woman he had called "Mistress.”
 

  It was a cold air stream that awoke Camus. He opened his eyes painfully, to find he had fallen on his side, close to an opened window, from where an icy air was reaching him. Through the pane, he could make out the shape of the roofs and a sharp orange plugging light. He tried to move, but pain tore him off a cry. His back, his legs and his arms were hurting as if they were broken. He felt blood running down his face and his cheek, from a wound on the head.

“Where am I? In whose body am I?” The only thought that crossed the mind of Camus was that he was not back in his own body.

He didn't have time to raise more questions, and lost conscious.

Spain, Barcelona, January 9, 2004, 11:30 PM, (Jan.9, 9:30 PM - GMT +2:00)

Armando Delavega was tapping frantically on his keyboard, in the search of this damned bug which had blocked a part of his Internet site.

At 27 years, this young man of Barcelona had just chucked the company he had been working for three years, and had created his own IT Company, with two university friends. Three months had passed since the beginning of his adventure, and he had already understood that during one or two years, he would certainly spend his night there, in front of his computer. Never mind! After all, it was his adventure... Usually he was not alone, because his two friends were also used to work late. But this evening, they had left to chase sponsors in one business Party of the Chamber of Commerce of Barcelona.

Armando caught the bottle of soda, close to his keyboard, his eyes set on the screen. He looked around at a noise, like a squealing in his back. But there was nobody else but him in the small office.

“Armando, you're becoming paranoiac... Time to put some music...”

He rose from his chair, and his head ran up against a small rack filled with books, above his desk. He sighed: definitely, this office was too small for his 6’1 feet... He couldn't wait to become wealthier and get a workspace sized for him! He caught some CDs on the rack, chose his favorite one and put it in the small CD player that he had brought for the long nights.

The voice of the singer and the electric guitars broke the silence of the office.

How edge you see into my eyes like open doors
leading you down into my core
where I' ve become so numb without a soul...².

Relaxed, Armando went back to work.

Suddenly, he felt pined against his keyboard by an incredible force, and his head ran up against the screen violently. A hand had fallen down in his back and maintained him immobilized. He tried to free himself, pushing on his front arm-levers, but in vain. Armando howled of rage... then of pain.

He felt a hard blow on his back, then blood coming to his mouth, invading his brain. Armando tried to inspire air, but his lungs refused to work. His eyes blurred, as the blue screen of the computer darkened.

He felt he was sinking in a world of darkness and coldness.

Don' T let me die here

there must Be something more

Bring me to life²

These words rang out in the head of Armando, before the darkness grabbed him.

“He lost consciousness, mistress”, said the giant, while moving out respectfully from the body of Armando, to leave place to the young woman with the long black hair.

She walked slowly to the body, and put down the amphora close to the head of the young man. She leaned her head against the table, and looked at the face of Armando, whose brown eyes, hidden by some black wicks, were still open. She stroked the dark hairs tenderly and started to laugh, delighted by this kind of game.

The giant was looking at the scene, his eyes capturing every gesture of his Mistress.

The young woman suddenly stood up, right on her legs, and opened the amphora, chanting strange words in an unknown language. Small gilded volutes of smoke escaped from the amphora, whirling around the open eyes. Then they disappeared, like if they had been absorbed by the two black irises of the young man.

The black-aired woman took the amphora and moved away.

“Come, Glaucus, it is not Amalric...” she declared with a crazy smile.

“Yes, mistress” answered the giant in armor.

The woman vanished in the airs. Glaucus was ready to do so, when he heard the young Spanish groaning, sign that he was slowly regaining consciousness. Glaucus leaned him against the file of the chair, in sitting position, so that he could take his breath. His last duty accomplished, he vanished as if by magic, without paying anymore attention to the young man, whose head was nodding from left to right.

Shura toppled over the chair, and felt violently on the ground.

He would have liked to shout: breathing was as much painful as frightening. An action he would have never imagined to be able to do again. How has he arrived here, in this body? Why was he back to life?

Lights suddenly blinded him, as he heard the soft melody of violins, followed by piercing clinks which twisted his brain.

He lost consciousness again.

Japan, Tokyo – January 10, 2004, 7:50 AM (Jan.9, 10:50 PM - GMT +09:00)

All the shutters were closed, and no light filtered inside the office where James and Eleny were working. Eleny was sat on one of the couches, reading newspapers with great attention. James was at his desk, checking his e-mails. He had almost checked all of them when a new e-mail arrived, under the name of the Chancellor of the Terrestrial Sanctuary. If the heart of James had still beaten, perhaps it would have stopped: this kind of communication was completely unusual from the old Sanctuary of Athena. He opened the e-mail feverishly, and became more and more fuming as he read along. He eventually banged his fist on the top of the desk, breaking the pane out of glass covering it.

Eleny started with surprise in front of the unexpected anger of her beloved one.

“What’s going on?!” She asked, standing out and glancing at him with surprise.

He looked at her, definitely in a dark mood.

“How can he do that?!”

Eleny came up to her companion, and looked at the screen. Her face tensed up almost instantaneously.

“We have to contact our closest teams…”

She took the compound of the phone and dialed frantically a number.

“Hello... Shina? Eleny speaking... ”

Italy, Naples - January 10, 2004, 1:00 AM (Jan.9, 11:00 PM - GMT +2:00)

 The young detective Lorenzo Mastroianni said goodbye to his colleagues. He was to leave the office when his boss, Police Inspector Tognazzi, hailed him.

“Hey! Lorenzo! Don't forget to comb your hair before coming to office tomorrow!”

Lorenzo smiled to the joke. His disheveled hairstyle, with the hair drawn up on the head, was the subject of frequent jokes from his colleagues, as well as various nicknames, like the "porcupine". But Lorenzo had never taken offence at them. On the contrary, he found them funny.

“I’ll think of it, boss! Ciao! A domani!” he said, waving at Tognazzi.

He left on the steps of the police station, and put the collar of his coat up, against his face to protect himself from the cold fog which was wrapping Naples. He was pleased he didn’t have to leave on mission that night, in these frozen and dangerous streets that he knew so well. He drew a cigarette case and a lighter from a pocket of his coat. The light of the flame lit his face slightly, unveiling two merry blue eyes. He drew a puff on his cigarette, and raised the eyes on the court of the police station, half-hidden by the frozen fog.

The 27-year-old Neapolitan had practically never left his birthplace, except to make a police academy in Rome during three years. Last son of a family of four children, he had quickly learned to enjoy this city, and also to be aware of its dangers. His parents had particularly taken care of the education of their children, and made sure that they didn't fall into the hands of recruiters of the local Mafia. The beautiful town of Naples had suffered for decades from this gangrene, and many classmates of Lorenzo had joined the « bad side » as of Senior-High, or even Junior-High. Perhaps in reaction to what occurred around him, Young Lorenzo had developed a deep sense of justice, and had decided that he would join the police force when he was adult. It is what he did at the age of 22, despite the opposition of his family.
 

 Lorenzo left the court of the police station, and moved to the covered car park where he had left his car. There was nobody there, and the place was surrounded by a mysterious and oppressive atmosphere. However, the young inspector was not impressed. Tall and firmly built, he also bared his weapon. Two reasons for him to fear nothing.  Relaxed, he walked slowly to his Alfa 156, and searched the key in his pocket. When he raised the eyes, a young woman was standing up close the passenger side of his car, looking at him. Her strange blue green eyes were bulging, expressing madness. She was not looking at him, but at the person who was behind him. It's the idea that crossed the mind of Lorenzo like a flash, and instinctively he slipped his hand, in search of his weapon, line in its case, against his chest. He drew his gun and turned back.

A firm hand seized his armed fist and twisted it without any effort. Lorenzo howled of pain and dropped his gun. Taking back control over him, he caught the throat of his attacker, and tried to push him back. To his disbelief, it was just a vain effort: the giant who was in front of him didn't move even a little. He eventually grabbed Lorenzo by the shoulder, and threw him against one of the columns of the car park.

Lorenzo thought that all his bones were going to be crushed under the shock. He felt down on the ground, half-conscious. Darkness wrapped him soon, and time became to be a very uncertain concept to his mind. Like in a dream, Lorenzo heard foot steps getting closer to him, and felt that somebody caught him by the throat, and raised him from the ground.

Then he felt an unbearable pain exploding in his chest, overcoming his fainting conscious.

Glaucus turned around to his accomplice.

“Ishara Mistress!”

She came up slowly, waddling, inclining the head on the right and on the left, eyes fixed on the body laid down on the ground. She knelt near him, stroking the dark brown hair, then the face and the lips.

“Amalric! My beloved Amalric, I won't leave you... Your pain will calm down soon…” she said, her hand now stroking the chest, which only a weak breath was raising.

She approached the gold amphora, similar to those which had been used in Paris and Barcelona. The same luminous volutes escaped from the amphora and whirled around the face of the victim, then disappeared, as if by magic.

“The spirit has taken possession of this body…” announced the young woman while moving away from the body of Lorenzo.

“Yes, Ishara mistress” agreed Glaucus.

He raised the body of the young man, and propped him against a pillar, sat on his knees, back against the wall.

“Come Glaucus, leave this man here. It is not Amalric... We have to continue our quest!” whispered Ishara, whose face was once again illuminated by an expression from which any reason missed.

She disappeared, followed by her trusty servant.

Death Mask felt coldness freezing his whole body.

His body? No, it wasn’t in his own body that he had been put in without care.

“Whose body is it, by the way? “

He managed to open the eyes, and saw the ground. Gray, cold, wet. Where was he? Unable to stay in sitting position, he toppled over his side, and his head ran up against the asphalt violently. The shock spread in his body, bringing back pain and the feeling of faintness.

Death Mask tried not to faint, but in vain. He closed again the eyes, letting himself slip in the darkness that frightened him so much.

² Words from "Bring Me To Life", Album "Fallen", Evanescence, Sony Music, 2003

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