Happy to Give Birth

I died 40 times I want to disappear from the stage. She killed me and left me a bookmark. This world is a cage of being "watched". The bugs are the eyes of the audience, and the bug tide is their carnival. The awakened person kneels under the Nine Star Tree and chooses a path, but at the end of each path, it is used more precisely. I was pushed around until I found out—the nominal aunt who raised me since childhood. I live because she is dead. I looked for her because she kept looking at me. There are four kinds in this world: Guardians, Destroyers, Fugitives and Forgotten ones. But this doesn't mean everything. Even if the price is letting everyone—including myself—actually die. I want to create my own path. Reincarnation is going nowhere, and within the rules, I am the "character" that should be deleted.