When the entire galaxy was mourning the martyrs who died in the starship explosion, Moran sat under a rose stand on a dirt roadside with overgrown weeds, holding up the newly drawn design to look at it.
The air smelled of sunshine and roses, and Moran's light eyes were even more charming in the sunshine.
An unexpected person escaped from the roses and was in a miserable state. His blue eyes were like the sea, his long black hair was messy, and a few red petals fell on his body. It is as beautiful as a painting, and the people in the painting are like gods and cannot be blasphemed.
The man chuckled, wiping away the blood from the rose thorns on his face with his slender fingers, his blue eyes unfathomable.
At this glance, it was an abyss.
Intention: None