[Stagger Lee]

On a desolate, windswept hill in the mountains above the former capital of Jomon, a solemn ceremony is held. There are more here than mortal eyes can see, and all are not as sombre as one would believe at first glance. The great pine box is lowered by ropes tied to behemoths standing silently to the side.

The Arch Bishop is saying something about the dead God, and how in the end he was a different person, not such a putz. A druid steps forward to sweep up some fallen chysanthemums because, well, lets just say he's better suited for that job than anyone else in attendance. (On paper, the plan was to plant those flowers around the grave, ensuring the peace after death that a respected fallen enemy has earned. But the mere sight of the things growing free has such an effect on some of us that placing the dread flora inside the coffin was thought best.) He opens the box a crack to drop in the last of the broken flowers. His eyes go wide, his face turns white.

"What have you done with his body, you monsters?" he shrieks.

The druid is hacked to pieces on the hilltop. The pieces are dropped into the box. The box is lowered into the ground. The throng, seen and unseen, shrugs and moves away...