Emotions in the deathly silence can no longer give birth to new colors.
Art, philosophy, technology... all domains have reached closure, lifeless and unable to stir even the slightest ripple.
The entire world is like a thoroughly solidified crystal ball.
They are trapped within it, becoming prisoners of their own splendor.
This "perfection" itself is the most brutal punishment, bringing with it a growing, maddening void.
This state was once the dream of the Mingshi Clan, for which countless clansmen shed their blood and fervently fought.
But now it has become a grave.
Behind the impossible climb is nowhere to climb.
Everything has an end; even the future has become an extension of the past, with no changes.
The Mingshi Clan was not born as cold observers and Reapers.
