Individually One.

The last of the terracotta.
It’s kind of special, in a very sad, somber way, how every guard is sculptured differently. Every face modelled unalike- wide or narrow eyes, long protruding or knobby upturned noses, thick lips or thin and concealing- all individually crafted.
In its time, these would have been artistically painted bright striking colours, each more beautiful than the next. All of this, for no one to admire.

Imagine being amongst the sculptors of that time- you had two options- either you commit your life to the emperor’s steadfast mindset, or you face death. Of course death would not even be factored. You’d commit the next 40 years- almost definitely your lifetime- to build these atrocities. All that you had hoped to accomplish, unthinkable under this emperor’s rule. You’ve basically been handed a death sentence.

A civilisation of wasted potentials.