"The weary sun, gently bidding farewell to the sea..."
The sun, weary, tenderly bid the sea farewell.
In the midst of the mournful wails shaking Xiematai, a hoarse voice sang, "In that moment, you confessed, that there is no love."
It was then you confessed, love was no more...
As Ye Xueya sang, the White Wolf ran silently, disappearing in a flash from the sky.
From the shattered ruins of the Central District, a piercing waterfall of light surged skyward.
The falling sun let out its last, tragic scream.
In the scorched pit, the blood-red sun was split open. Piercing sunlight, like gushing blood, sprayed in all directions, drop by drop, so thick and viscous.
Beneath layers of radiance writhed piece after piece of crawling flesh.
The dead, stillborn child continued to thrash with dozens of tentacles. Its purple-black flesh rooted and sprouted in the soil, spreading rapidly, only to die just as quickly.
