Moonlight that should not have existed shone down upon the dark, sunken plain. At the center of a world that had already ended, the Supreme Narrator lay prone and motionless upon the spiral-shaped hill, its divine limbs still clinging tightly to those rocks condensed from fragments of history. The clear moonlight, like a gauzy veil, draped over this divine creature, and the bright moon hung directly above the hill.
Gawain raised his head, looking at that gigantic spider.
It seemed to have died on the road of chasing the moonlight.
Of course, what it had pursued could not have been the moonlight—this Sandbox World, just like the reality outside, had no "moon"—yet its posture, clinging to the hillside in death… did indeed resemble that of something in pursuit.
Magnan raised his head. The Supreme Narrator's limbs blocked out the moonlight, casting a massive shadow beside him. The irascible red-haired bishop narrowed his eyes slightly. "Cough… truly spectacular…"
