Humans have existed for as long as their petty race can remember, and there are those who have dwelled among them, claiming to be one of them. But in fact they are not, they are not what they seem to be. But is anything truly what it is? Or is life just some maniacal scheme? A scheme in which the so called 'Gods and Goddesses' watch from above. Judging like a peanut gallery, they manipulate and twist, braiding your fate into another's, just to rip you out again, the desperate tangle leaving you both wounded and weak. They seize that opportunity to show you your true fate, when you are so far gone that nothing matters. They toy with us, and once bored, they dispose of us. We are all pawns.