Beside her, the book "Original Sin" placed under the root of the tree had its pages blown open by the wind.
On the blank page, the crooked writing sparkled in the moonlight.
Next to the book, a mechanical beetle emerged from the soil.
It has no chip or program, it just clumsily crawls onto the page by instinct.
Then next to that line of words, a small, moist footprint was left.
That's a new story.
That is a story for mortals.
The universe remains chaotic.
War still breaks out.
Civilizations still perish.
But it doesn't matter.
Because the spark has been rekindled.
