Fluttering snow painted the ground white.

Inside an ordinary-looking cabin, a man gazed out at the picturesque scene, his skeletal hand reaching out as if he was trying to touch the soft snowflakes. Behind him, golden flames gently licked the aged cauldron, the vivid glare in stark contrast with the monotone shades of the night outside.

After a few moments, the man withdrew his hand with a smile, complicated emotions flashing in his eyes. With a light sigh, he resumed his comfortable sitting posture near the warmth of the fire. He stared at the silvery liquid inside the boiling cauldron for a long while.

"Once upon a time, you were all that I desired." He spoke to the shifting liquid with nostalgia. "I killed so many people, destroyed so many families, all for a glimpse of you. I am so used to murdering and destroying evidence that even a spark reminds me only of sky-high mansions burning to ashes now."

"She was right." His eyes gradually became unfocused. "You were the real source of disaster, the real femme fatale."

The liquid continued swirling without any abnormality. A hint of smoke appeared on its surface.

He smiled again - a smile filled with regret and a hint of ridicule. Casting a final look at the cauldron, he turned and left. His figure, shimmering under firelight, seemed to have disappeared into the air.

Outside, crystalline snow continued to fall in silent darkness, giving off a desolate feeling.