Good day, editor of the [REDACTED]!I, Eveline Ingrid Thomas, hereby declare that the end of the world wasn't my fault. The twisting of the veil, the turning of the moons, the plague of Eden, they were far beyond my scope. I was another impotent observer in those chaotic theatres, same as everyone else. My influence in their unwinding was easily interchangeable and entirely unconscious. Meanwhile, my 'friend', Lilith Priscella Cottonswell, is every bit the monster they say I was. Her pastel colours, her affable manners, her smile, her eyes, affectations all. They're the web she casts, while the spider waits inside... Herein lies my testimonial. It chronicles the sequence of events relating to the precipitous fall of order that brought our world to the brink of collapse. If you will only read and consider my piece with an open mind, then I assure you it will all become clear as glass.Thank you, and have a wonderful day!Sincerely, EvePS: Lily here! She forgot to change her password, so I figured I'd make a few adjustments. Okay, well, a few more than a few, at that. No, I didn't change anything outlined in her account, and I can even corroborate most of the events it describes as essentially accurate, but there are, after all, two sides to every story. If she has a right to be heard, to sing her song and sow new seeds regarding the emergence of grammarie and its impact on the world at large, then the least I should get is the same opportunity, right?That's all I wanted to say, really. Oh, besides, well--She's right about me. I wish she wasn't, but wishes are dirt. I just hope she knows that there's more to this story. Maybe this will be enough...