Made from the torn cloaks of other Hunters. Other, lesser Hunters. All My Victims Cloaks In the Garden grows a tree of silver wings. The leaves are ruin, the bark disaster. Of the seeds we do not speak. Ruin Wings The enemy is only another algorithm. Simplify it, Solve it, And set it in its place. Nerigal Savant III Slept in my armor last night. Woke to find my heart stuttering to the pattern of an unknown signal. Cuirass of the Hezen Lords. And here is the creepiest. [b]There is no oxygen in space, but I will still burn you.[/b] Firesingers Gaze And for the lullz: What about the darkness? What will you do then? I'll punch that too