For death…
Are you afraid of death?
You will really die... It's not just a simple talk...
Death shrouded in darkness exudes a cold aura.
"Who are you..."
"I am your slave."
Longing... Longing for darkness...
Longing is like the cold touch on the side of a corpse...
"So... Who am I?"
"You are my master, the ruler of darkness..."
The blood spread from the corners of the lips, reflecting the snow-white skin, flowing down drop by drop, gathering together, and turning black.
"So... Are you willing to accept your current identity?"
"Yes."