If death could redeem the world, how many times would you be willing to sacrifice yourself for its people?
If the world were painted in endless night and cold, repeating cycles, would you still have the courage to plant a flower called "hope"?
She once thought her fate had already been decided, written in the cages of laboratories and the smoke of battlefields.
She was a vessel bearing a curse, a soul that had shattered in despair and been pieced back together countless times.
She had seen stars fall and heard all things lament.
Then, a sea of green mandrake flowers quietly bloomed in the barren soil of her heart.
"Even if my body must one day become dust that nourishes the earth,
Even if the wind scatters my memories into the endless void..."
The girl gently touched the rough bark of a tree, her eyes clearer than the starry sky.
This is a journey in search of a way home.
Not to save the world, but to let those she cares about
live in a world where flowers bloom, even after the world has forgotten her.
Even if it lasts only a moment, she will bloom brighter than eternity.
