I am the sharpest knife in the empire and the most perfect collection of His Majesty's. Once I became an outcast, the chains of the dungeon and my crazy love became my prison.
The emperor's fingertips traced my lips, and the knight's bite left traces of jealousy. They fought for my body, but they didn't know that my soul had already fallen into a deeper abyss.
At the end of my despair, I awakened the eternal gods. He is the invisible black mist and the absolute will. He wiped away my pain just to ask for a cold kiss as a tribute.
"Heh..."
His sticky eyes were fixed on me. Where I couldn't see, I had already become the thing in his palm...
The way I bleed, the way I'm sick, the way I look like a sharp knife unsheathed... Are just a perfect collection in his eyes.
This cold breath is as close as the end of the world but out of reach. Where is my place before I escape...
A burst of cold breath surrounds me, in my ears, around me, and on my fingertips
Is falling in love with a god a supreme salvation or... A punishment?
