The night was dark and bodies danced at the smell of death and lamentation. Upon the skies, Nephthys arrives to bless the one who cried for relief and spoke “Each man is a hero and an oracle to somebody”.
Lifting the man from the ground, she whispered at his ear “Life is only precious because it ends, Don. Take it from a god. You mortals don’t know how lucky you are. You are my Oracle”