The hotwave was utterly diminished, there's no rain nor mist, the semese fragments were all over the room. Eighty years seemed to have passed, still the dark light glows on the white rusty wall.
Walking around they started to think: What could they achieve back then? If possible, would they be able to change all of them? Was it a flat out and pathetic attempt not to fall down so hard? Doesn't even matter anymore, they just gazed upon it and went away.
The stirring thin man looked around in the search for it, that many clues weren't in his way, just one...a little wooden-carved key with iron-engraved words for: In pater regnum.
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