In 2044 AD, humans who were keen on developing biological and chemical weapons finally reaped the consequences. A super virus named "Pandora" spread across the world, turning more than 90% of humans into zombies, and the world collapsed overnight. Superstar artists who were originally supported by thousands of people fell off the altar and became singing playthings raised by big shots. Part1. The bright sunshine enveloped the garden, as if no harm had ever happened. The mysterious girl in a black cloak looked at the man with soft black hair through the cage, and her ethereal voice sounded like a spell. "You sing beautifully." "... Thank you... Thank you!" "Well, why not..." "... Huh?" "Why don't you be my nightingale." Part 2. She stepped on the corpses on the ground and walked forward slowly, bending down to pick up the golden neck ring, feeling lost. "I'm so good to him, why do I have to leave?" The person behind him didn't speak, but lowered his unruly head, put the neck ring on her hand on his slender neck, and imprisoned himself with his own hands. "Then... Please let me be your nightingale."