Death approached the heavenly wanderer slowly, burning out his eyes with every new step. A fissure full of lava promised certain death for Scorpio. The naked skin burned, the ends of the hair seemed to be on fire. My hair was hot. The hot steam rising from below steamed the skin and heated the body. The feeling of helpless doom pressed on the consciousness. Crucified on chains and defeated by unknown opponents, the heavenly messenger only had to remember why everything turned out this way. Remember, Scorpio, remember.