I have been considered dead since I was born. I am like a wandering soul, wandering outside the world, watching others carry out their destiny given by "gods".
I can't touch any reality in this world, just like my name, it's meaningless.
Until one day, a group of strange people came to the world, and the world began to move. I touched the truth of the world.
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Warnings and tips: 1. This article is generally a first-person narrative, so don't comment if you don't like it.
2. It depends on the situation, there may or may not be CP.
3. The relationship is more interesting, but not a trap.
4. This article is inspired by Leaf's "", so it is half a derivative (?
5. Should it be a short story?
Intention: Destiny is not static