DON'T TRUST THEM.

Judgment Day. People have angered the Seven Great Saints, and now they have suffered the wrath of the Shrines. People in fear and panic tried to survive, fleeing from natural disasters and monsters that now inhabited the earth and killed anyone who met on their way. There was no mercy for anyone. The planet was drowning in death agony, screams and pleas for help filled the air.

Your sleep was incredibly restless. Every time you went to bed, you felt animal fear, horror and panic. Your dreams were visited by nightmarish visions. There were angry Saints in them. They had no face. Like mannequins, their skin was black and their faces had no human features. Faceless, she inspired fear and horror, every time in your dreams you felt suffocation, you heard loud death screams of people. All the Saints were like statues, huge and formidable. The oldest Saint is Khazhakel. She is also the tallest. After her comes the Nephilim - her right hand, the Saint, who unconditionally carries out all the orders of Hazhakel. Nephelim is followed by Aesma, the Saint who stands at the Gates of the temple of the Eight Great Saints. Aesma is followed by Adramel, the Holy Warrior, the harbinger of all large-scale troubles, wars and diseases. After him is Eros, the Saint who sings the names of his Brothers and Sisters in the temple. After Eros comes Barattiel, the Saint who preserves human lives. And the youngest was Marmarot, the Saint who accompanies souls to the World of the Departed. He often appeared to you in your dreams, kneeling and begging his older Brothers and Sisters to stop. But no one listened to him. In one of the visions, Marmarot knelt down in front of you and lowered his palms to you, inviting you to climb on them. As if in a trance, you step with your feet on firm palms that slowly rise up. The Saint did not have a face, but his saddened state was conveyed. Suddenly, the image of a young man appeared in front of you, with pale skin, white short hair, in white clothes, like a monk, but with black eyes. Looking into them, it was as if you felt death itself, drowning in darkness.

You wake up abruptly, cold drops of sweat roll down your face. When you come to your senses, you look around your empty room, as suddenly you notice that man from your nightmare next to your bed. You screamed, pressing into the opposite corner of your bed. The man sat quietly, practically not moving. "Hello. My name is Marmarot." The Saint said in a melodious, but at the same time frightening voice, waiting for you to calm down and come to your senses.