This is the pitch-black and boundless deep space of the universe.
The stars shimmer brilliantly, suspended in reverse.
And in the deepest part of the Abyss of Stars, there lies an ancient hall woven from shadows.
That hall undulates with the surge of starlight, aimlessly drifting through the deep space of the universe, as if it has existed since time immemorial.
Deep within the hall.
High heels made of crystal.
A black Gothic long dress, and a crown made of a rare dark red metal, entwined around a snow-white neck.
The Golden Elf adorned in such attire leans gently against a silent throne woven from dark thorns.
Her eyes are slightly closed.
A few strands of light golden hair fall from her forehead onto the armrest of the Silent Seat, as if she is taking a nap, or perhaps in a deep slumber.
Only in the slightly closed eyes, there appears now and then a slow flickering azure Secret Flame—
