Between Solitude and Cold

“When crows cry beneath a clear sky, the cracks in the world quietly appear.”

A boy who stood apart from the crowd, a rusted yet searing-hot knife, and a torrential downpour defying the heavens.

The spiritual power of the Six Realms stirred in the shadows. Inhuman things lurked between desks and in mirrors.

He thought salvation came by chance. She was silent as a river in the depths of winter.

And truth was always written in blood:

A tale of the lonely and their fate, of cursed tenderness, and of souls that “should never have existed” yet fought desperately to stay alive.