This is a world of only gray and white, oppressive and suffocating.
Everywhere one looks, there's nothing but ruin—what were once majestic mountains and rivers, now twisted by an invisible mighty power, hang upside down in the sky, with waterfalls plunging down from between them.
Everything seems to have been upended by an unseen force; the boundary between heaven and earth has grown blurred and indistinct.
"Rumble rumble!..."
The waterfall, like a chain of silver, slices through the desolate gray, its roar echoing endlessly. Yet, at the edge of the waterfall, a slender figure is walking slowly.
It is a woman dressed in plain robes.
Her form is veiled in mist, vague and indistinct—a refined ink painting, radiating a cold, immaculate purity untouched by worldly dust.
She moves lightly, her steps exuding an air of otherworldly detachment, like the celestial maiden descending from ancient legend, every step imbued with immortal grace free from mundane stains.
