"When there's war, there's also peace." There was a dark cloud above the monk, its energy was momentous, its channelling pure. He sat in deep meditation, his eyes a furious white, his heartbeat calm, his soul a stillsam ocean. As time moved slowly through the galaxy, as did his reach to Nirvana, it was a path that kept retribution from escaping his hands, his fingers held in a Soul song mudra. Once, there was war, and the war was merciless, his hands had seen the blades slice through throngs of warriors, cowards, pestilence. He now moved with the stars, and there was only one truth, that of Nirvana. Yet, the demons of old wanted his spirit. It was that of a fighter, one who was pure, and so could enter the kingdom of God, and with it, let them in.