A colonial group, one priest, luxurious brush house infinitely full of judicious people, stern faces and venomous words baptized in a plaster of hate, the people have a semblance of blank stares and cold hearts, arguments everlasting between the mind and heart, viscous games being played by the players who won't cease until they reach their greatest objective, killing off all the life that still remains in that little brush house, but the battle is not over, one spark of light and the whole place lights up with a stubborn army, invulnerable, focused, and dedicated to fight through the war with battle scars that will always show but the pain will be gone, and it will be a fresh start for the brush house and all the life that still thrives throughout it...