July 13th, 2020
That statue had stood for centuries, guarding the city of the mothers. Two times she defended them from March. The first time he came with a rope to pull her down. The effort to stand crumbled her arm. The second time he came with a very thin rope. With this he tried to climb to her face. Once he had reached her, he pulled on the rope and cut her head apart. He found that there was a fire inside of her, and he was burned.
Yet this third time was too much. Because the God of Conquest can do nothing else. He is a slave to his nature, just like I am a slave to mine.
All stone will crumble. All defenders will fall. It is time for someone else to take up her responsibility. Who will it be?
This story releases exactly 10 pages per month and a cover on day 1. This averages out to just more than a page every 3 days. The story ends when the calendar ends.
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