The gears mesh lightly, and the hourglass turns upside down. In the dust that fell from the "butterfly wings", among the bones of the old gods and the embers of starlight——
Someone salvaged the bloody moonlight in the eyes of the amnesiac guide, and kept the whispering key in the right arm of the chemistry teacher.
This is a cruel love letter to survivors, a waltz written on a knife's edge between the city's mist and waves.
The Duke of Saint-Germain unfolds this blood-stained parchment for you——
Please note: When reading, be careful of frostbite on your fingertips from the "Long Night" seeping out between the pages.
One side of the mirror
…
