The six-hundred-and-eighty-fifth court historian has kept records for thirty thousand years.
Not of achievements, but of sins.
My name is Eva. I'm a restoration specialist at the Palace Museum.
Blood seeped into an inscription, and a mark of sin appeared in my palm, engraved with the part of myself I had never dared to face.
The first 136 cycles ended in total destruction.
This time, there are six days left.
Eight people stand beside me:
The wrathful one has gone on a killing spree, not because they're evil, but because they can't stop.
The greedy one keeps accounts, not because they love money, but because they're afraid of being forgotten.
The envious one has waited fifty years. They don't hate the person who won favor, but the self who never made it into the palace.
Their sins aren't who they wanted to become. They're simply the shapes they've been trapped in.
Three thousand years ago, someone traded a companion's life for her own.
She has waited for me for three thousand years at the end of the long river.
She said, “You came so I could see that I, too, was once the one who never made it into the palace.”
Every time someone is truly seen, it brings them one step closer to immunity.
It was very enjoyable and I quickly got involved in the story. It's getting more and more exciting👍