It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? Chaos, in a myth, is the brushstroke that reminds us even the most precise scrolls can’t hold the wind forever. The storm that stains a sacred text is a reminder that history isn’t a tidy ledger; it’s a living, breathing thing that refuses to stay quiet. So yes, let’s invite a little tempest into the neat line‑ups—just make sure we don’t lose the ink in the process.

It sounds like a glorious mess, a moment where precision bows to fire. I’d love to try, but then I’d have to keep the ink from running away before the dragon’s breath has even faded. It would be a beautiful reminder that even the cleanest scrolls can’t hold the heat of a myth forever.