Upon a balcony of white stood a lady, her hair as black as night, her striking eyes crimson as red as blood, yet fixed upon a woman in white.
"Oh stop making it sound like I'm some ominous being."
…
[Request… temporarily accepted.]
Her gaze lingered on the woman in white, who held a man close, in blood soaked through in crimson—the vivid color staining robes never meant for anything unholy.
She looked up, starry blue eyes lifting to the sky—
—which had already begun to crumble splinter.
The lady upon the white balcony looked up as well.
The sky crumbling shattered like glass, shards falling away to reveal a towering clock of dark wood.
Uncanny in its stillness, it struck twelve.
The bells rang—loud enough to deafen.
The clock stuttered once.
Then began to turn.
Not forward.
But rapidly.
Violently.
Reversing a world made only of words.
[Act 74 completed.]
[Reinitialization pending.]