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Bird of Death, Fyodor's Sonata
Honoka ni
Decapitation of Dostoevsky; Chapter 129

I am crime.
I am punishment.
Haven't you known?
Crime and punishment are close acquaintances.
Borders vanish.
Rooms awaken.
The incarnation of death, the master of fogs destructive...
Eat, howl, and make violence as your instinct desires.
This is neither a loss of control nor a singularity.

I hate you all.