the artist rose for the day, wiping their heavy eyes and setting their intentions for the day's creations. today was the first day they had risen since the dawn of man when they had painted the crosses so beautifully to point humanity toward the angels. but today was not a day of peace, but of judgment.
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the artist set out to a nearby field, with their brush and palette at the ready. they felt pulled there by an ancient force, something they had not been in contact with since their inception. and there, resting, was raphael, their creator.
the artist had not seen raphael's form before and was dazzled by their beauty. the black of their body shined like brilliant opal, and a million eyes watched the artist back. raphael rose, smiling wide, and the artist saw everything that was to come: the end of elysia, the return of the holy ghost, and the great dance beyond. all came so clearly, and, in the presence of raphael, the artist knew these visions to be true.
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the angel disappeared in the blink of an eye, evaporating into the sky with a burst of light as blinding as the sun. even with the future so clearly spelled out, the artist knew they were powerless to the angels and demons that guided the world. wiping away their tears for all other life on elysia, the artist set out to paint their magnum opus.