...
With a talisman in his left, a cross in his right, and a terrible look in his eye, he commanded at the looming, desolate wasteland with a fearful voice, "Repent, Mu General, and awaken! Beseech unto thee that doth not know of thine power and will!" he yelled, his face and chest bloodied by the sheer strength of his voice. He knew not of the time for which he commanded, as he did not give its' pence; he screamed for what seemed to be a century, yet in reality, was but a mere score. Alas, his mad beckons rendered his eyes blind, for the immense light emanating from is soul by the power of his will had been too much. Unable to feel pity for himself, he fell to his knees - a cold, shivering pile of what used to be the most divine of graces - and vanished from the memory of the victor; the Mu General. His death was not in vain, however, as a glint of his will still sparked in the distance. Now, some say that this spark was nothing more than a misguided declaration of socialism in a barren environment - a call for peace in time of anarchy. But others now worship this light as the sun itself, praying and offering to it, that the Mu General may still, rise once again.