"In this land of despair, you sow the seeds of light for us, the morning milk nourishes hope, and the golden eggs nurture rebirth."
At some unknown time, another song subtly began to blend in.
Yet this seemingly absurd lyric was endowed with a unique power by the believers.
The songs intertwined, echoing in the narrow space of the sanctuary, crashing against the walls, and striking everyone's soul.
The walls of the sanctuary seemed no longer so cold, the tremors above no longer so terrifying. The believers gradually held hands, and the song grew louder and louder, as if transforming this underground space into a vast Holy Temple. Even the non-believers among the refugees were moved by this pious atmosphere, unconsciously humming along, as if the song could dispel the darkness and fear before them.
