The new man who moved into the small shop next door always holds a little siren that spits out blue light.
The day he rescued me and retrieved my sister's fishing net, when the water dropped, I suddenly felt that I had seen this face before.
I gave him steamed buns, taught him how to read divination, and slowly got closer to him. He didn't hide, and even put the little siren into my hand and let me rub it.
I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together in this doomsday world.
Later I realized that the familiar feeling at dusk was not an illusion.
That was the echo I left on this beach after I last looked into his eyes and said my last words two hundred years ago.
Purpose: What is most important in the apocalypse?