Three gold coins, three wishes, three chess pieces.
A remnant game of chess, a magic box, an old dream, a bet.
Mother, we are your children, and we will eventually leave this cradle and go further, even if what is waiting for us at the end is the tomb forest of civilization.
[(Real) Protagonist lives in everyone's memories + group portraits + unit drama + semi-empty + meat pigeons + grams + timeline chaos]
I write whatever comes to my mind, any story I want to write.
Intention: Human beings will always leave the cradle and mother