And in the terror that unfolds when the script runs out, there is a beauty unlike any other, bittersweet and haunting, calling back to every song unsung, every story long forgot, every dream that fades with waking, that this too is not the end.
Look, it was deleted because, and I can't stress this enough, I don't know what I'm doing. Now, read that in a way that doesn't make me look bad.