Today’s sin is wrath.
Seven deadly sins is complete.
There is a fog about it. A path cuts through, whip thin and just as sharp. You can only follow. You can only continue on the path, though each step resounds like a drumbeat urging you on, hitting you in the chest with an encouraging fist. You follow. You follow. You march and you follow and the drumbeats build and the path cuts and the noise swells and your body is hollow from being struck and you follow toward that moment when it will finally be too much.