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    Summary

    He'd heard the name once, of a god, of an entity, something of the sort. He'd recall the fuzzy memory of a servant's words, engrave the tale into his head, while iron barred his skin to his cranium, suffocatingly taut. He'd dream of a deity, who shone brighter than the sun itself, he'd beg to a god he didn't know the existence of, to be his salvation, extricate him and reform him anew,

     

    Sanji had begged as a child, for a divine being, a god, to rescue him from the excruciating hellhole of a life he was living. He'd begged for whatever higher celestial that was out there to take him to themself, perhaps in the hopes that he could descry his mother. He'd asked for death to take him, with it's own two hands.

    Instead, he learned what it meant to live.

    Language:
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