Without even minding the stares coming from the wanderers, Thirteen moved to the next mural.
This time, the mural depicted a fat man dressed in elegant clothes. Countless gold coins flowed from his hands, littering the ground in his wake.
"He stands in gold, yet hollow within,
A gilded cage for the life he's been.
Each coin that falls, a silent plea,
For something more he'll never see."
"Eyes avert, yet hearts perceive,
The weight he bears, the dreams he grieves.
Hands that scatter, not in delight,
But because the world gave him no other fight."
"Rich in gold, yet poor in soul,
A man who pays to feel control.
And still the coins fall, one by one,
Until the night swallows the sun."
Thirteen moved to the next mural, and in there, a man with four pairs of black wings had his hands spread wide.
Around him, a hundred black snakes looked up at him in worship, as if thanking him for giving birth to them.
"He spreads his arms to skies of night,
