In the depths of a heretical gospel, a man stands on the edge of salvation and damnation, chosen to become the offering. Not by divine will, but by a twisted need for redemption, he is the Lamb-his soul destined to bleed for a preacher whose gospel is written in flesh and sin. The altar thirsts for him, its hunger fed not by prayer, but by the wet cry of a saint's suffering. "In the beginning, there was the Word-and the Word was not holy. It was a whisper in the dark, a promise of blood, a sacrificial tongue that would taste salvation through the sinner's sin." In the shadow of the Flesh, where holiness and horror converge, he must surrender or be consumed. Bound by the gospel of blood, he is not called to carry the cross-but to be nailed upon it, a Lamb bound in agony for the coming Age of Crimson.
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