I know this. I've been here already. I know this taste – the taste of Damascus Rose obfuscating the truth in a dim haze. They may sweep the traces from my memory, but my body remembers. These cuts speak volumes, even though my mind remains silent.

They will be back. Oh, they will be back.

Paint the man, cut the lines, cut the flesh, watch the blood spill – let it come!

The inner sanctum – my most precious chamber, Daniel. And it lies well beyond the refinery. In fact... it lies beneath the very stone of Brennenburg.

Something died inside of him that day. Watching that man slip away was more than his mind was willing to handle.

Centuries have passed in vain and I begin to wonder if I will ever be able to see my love again. How much longer can I sustain my life?