In my ears was the sound of mountains and rivers collapsing.
In front of my eyes are the colorful and drifting spots of the world.
"... Look at me again."
I vaguely heard their voices.
As usual, thousands of people attacked.
There may be some issues with the protagonist's character.
Also, I might be stuck at writing until I die. If I write, my writing style will probably be very ecstatic, fresh and refined without being artificial...
Concept: love that binds