A melting icecap, a bubbling spring or the soft autumn rain; small trickling streams that, over many years, grow into mighty rivers. Within every man lies the call to power - it is as much a part of him as his very own blood. The foolish drink from that vital liquid, but the wise know that strength is not worth seeking. Instead, they desire that which lies beyond it. They follow the mighty river to its source. Eyes wide, they spot the glistening icecap. Ears open, they listen for the bubbling spring. Nose twitching, they smell the scent of the autumn rain. They find those small, trickling streams. They are led to the source from which strength flows. It is that which beats within the bosom of every man: a blood-red heart.