Dream, it's that dream again, the dream that has haunted me for thirteen years. I saw my mother, she was still the same as in my memory, standing under the night smoke tree, smiling gently at me. The next moment, I was penetrated by a bright cold, blood flowed freely, splashed in the air, fell to the ground, dyed the blue night smoke leaves, and dyed my entire field of vision red. I also saw my father, holding his mother in his arms, lowering his head and crying, then roaring to the sky, letting the blood soak him, and he could no longer tell who was who. I once burst into tears and couldn't help crying, but now I just feel empty in my heart, and the cold wind is pouring into it, but it can't be filled. There is a hole in my heart, and there is endless loneliness inside. I have to find something, anything, as long as it can fill this emptiness.
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An extra short story in the fourth volume of the Spirit World series. It will be changed and supplemented later and merged into the main story.
Intention: