"Layla, what does the world look like in your eyes?"
So gray, so ugly...
"Then make it shine once more."
I can't.
"No, you can contribute."
Frank had always been a seeker of talent, a guide to illuminate the path for them. He always believed that the world would return to normal one day, and that every human being could lay down a brick toward that future.
Layla no longer remembered clearly what this world initially looked like. She only knew that now, it was filled with swirling black smoke. And every time Frank approached her, that sky-choking smoke would pour out from him, devouring him until his very soul twisted in pain.
He was constantly calling for help. He pleaded, he begged. But she couldn't do anything. The foul black smoke seemed intent on winding around her, burning her away.
