Ink-stained clothes.
Under the shadow of the moon, the figure of a slender young man stood in the grass as deep as night.
The blowing wind caused the tied long black hair to keep flying. Hidden in the bright eyes on the pale face was the loneliness of the injured beast.
——That was the first and unforgettable meeting.
A bound oath, an irreversible trajectory.
It was precisely because he understood that there was nothing he could rely on that he risked everything he had left.
Just, why...
The eyes that can see everything gradually close and wear the chains of fate.
The astrolabe cannot be seen clearly, the prayer cannot be seen through.
——Hey, paint. I've made everything happen for you.
Everything, everything you hoped for came true.
——So... Why are you still sad?
Lost myself in such a sad world.
Those who run towards the night without hesitation can only cut off this fate without any attachment.
Well, before that, for the last time. I ask you.
——Hey, paint. What exactly is your wish?