Only through reaching the pinnacle of devotion can the sanctity of the flames remain undying, allowing the world to persist.
In the prolonged prelude to demise, one girl after another stepped onto the stage, only to fall one by one.
They were devastated by the heat waves of the flames, depleting everything in the never-ending sacrifice. They once danced and sang with the purest faith, but ultimately, their dance lost its brilliance, and their songs harbored fear.
The Holy Fire thus weakened, and darkness seized the opportunity to drag them into the abyss.
As each girl fell, prayers turned into lamentations, and encouragement became curses. The collapsing people fled in all directions, leaving the stage deserted.
The accompaniment had long stopped, with only candles left from the Holy Fire.
Doomsday finally arrived, with only the desperate cries and pleas of the survivors at the dim end.
"Is there no one left? Is there no one who can offer prayers again?"
