The gates to the lecture hall close As the hunter fails to conjure flame. Viola, the Incongruous Spider is salivating. Catastrophic cards, they spoke to me through sight. They warrant flame through punishment. Their lexicon deems nourishment. Teacher, preacher, show your blood. Myths and lies, abhorrent prize. Crooked seams and shattered teeth. Lose yourself inside your craft, find yourself and blame your blade. Before my life is over, I need to find my... I… I was born to guide the flame. There’s nothing left to learn, just let me find my spark. I… I was born to guide the flame. There’s nothing you can teach me, just let me find my spark. The cemetery dice observe. The bloodstained footprints of his ancestors lead him to lift the carpet. Only to discover the horror, which lies beneath.