The light of dawn spreads over the horizon, the ruins of civilization begin to appear on the vast land, desolate vines climb over the cold and broken Church, agile rabbits leap over the shattered walls, and the soil soaked in the snow last night is frozen solid and black.
Standing before this long-abandoned Church, the hazy morning light pours down from the glass do, the girl cradles a cello, raises her head to et the dawn, each strand of her deep blue hair adorned with a golden edge.
Inside the Church, pale golden sunlight pours through every broken crack; she seems like a sprite walking through this tranquil place, shining amid floating dust.
The tip of the boot slowly steps over the light grassy ground, bending the grass. The owner of the boots utters a 'Huh?', seemingly unable to believe that such a place would harbor weak life growing resiliently.
The girl crouches down, extends her slender index finger to gently touch the tenacious little grass; green Vitality Magic appears at her fingertips, gentle streams of water soak into the soil, the bent weeds revive, stand tall, beco lushly moist, and bloom vibrantly.
In no ti, the adow under the girl blooms wonderfully vibrant with life. Her skirt lightly lifts, amidst the abundant vitality, like a freshly blossod Blue Iris.
So, there are still lives here, yearning to be noticed, just like musical notes waiting to leap in a score.
Sevia thought.
Surrounded by the jubilant lives, the joy makes the girl's lips curl into a radiant smile, she softly brushes her dress, legs together, the gentle lawn cradles her light body, nature at this mont embraces her with grace.
She sits on the lawn, playing a lody no one listens to, her slightly hoarse voice sings the traveler's ballad.
No longer fixated on the journey, she only wishes to waste the hazy morning in this tranquil ti, to play until exhaustion, sing until joy fills her.
After a tiless harmonious interval, Sevia softly breathes out, tucks the strands hanging by her cheeks behind her ear, leaning against the crumbling wall, showing a contented smile.
At the boundary of illusion and reality, the deep blue girl perceives sothing as she raises her head, watching the train of steel forming from illusion to reality, crossing the valley in the shining sunrise, riding over a bridge like the spine of a giant, heading toward the world's end.
At a certain mont, that train of steel upon the long honking whistle begins to deconstruct, gradually becoming illusory transparent, eventually turning into countless specks of light falling, leaving only the barren bridge that stood solitary in the valley for a hundred years.
Glistening star-sand falls beside Sevia, through these glimrs she glimpses many mories not belonging to her, causing her brows to furrow slightly in confusion, until a mont when Sevia sees a blonde girl with indistinct features wrapping an arm around her waist, inviting her to dance in their respective worlds.
These fragnted mories are like shattered glass shards, flying into Sevia's consciousness, the dull pain making the girl sowhat painfully clutch her head, soft and lodious whispers floating by her ear.
Sevia sees herself with black lipstick embracing her waist from behind, lifting her chin, leaning to her ear, words full of seduction, tempting her to taste the poison of falling into the abyss.
——"Want to find your mories?"
——"Then leave everything to ."
——"Relax, just give your body to ."
——"Whether it's building a beautiful Eden, or the Power to save everyone, I can grant you."
——"As long as you do not resist , entrust everything to ."
The dark blue skirt begins to stir restlessly, the pitch-black big hand extends to the ground, reaching to the broken wall, forming a huge silhouette, intending to completely devour Sevia.
The lanting life turns into countless black big hands erupting from within the girl, enchantingly chaotically rushing to the sky, destroying everything around even if kiloters away in the settlents, the sky can be seen shrouded by gloomy obscurity.
Consciousness is continuously torn apart, tumbling in flas, chaotic thoughts are injected within, becoming pairs of pitch-black big hands dragging her body, pulling her towards the filthy swamp.
The will cannot withstand this near-mad erosion, cracking appears delicate, on the verge of collapse.
Desire begins to lose control, the air of strange tales spreads to every crevice of the earth, floating land falls into the void, until finally, the tower of reason starts collapsing downward. In the nick of ti, Sevia's slender fingers touch the Conductor's String Sword, resolutely it descends toward her neck!
Perhaps fearing sothing, the whispers by her ear, the shadows around retreat back into her body at once like ebbing tide.
Looking at the dead life on the grass, the surrounding Church ruins leveled by the recent loss of control, Sevia's gaze trembles as she looks down, guilt, lingering fear, and bewildernt interwoven into musical notes play on the score within her heart, as if an end to a crescendo, transitioning to a gentle tune.
Sevia's eyes lower, looking at the Conductor's String Sword close to her neck, fingertips tremble uncontrollably.
She will harm more people.
Cannot remain in civilized places.
She cannot imagine the cost of her loss of control.
To end her journey here?
Countless past beautiful, painful, ambiguous mory fragnts replay continuously in her gaze, like a slowly playing videotape, freezing at the shore of new birth.
No,
she cannot stop here yet.
She has yet to atone for the sins she committed.
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