"..." The air was thick with the scent of blood, rife with anguish, and lingering with the wails of the unwilling, aggrieved, and hateful.
Yi Yun's tall figure kneeled, his hands touching the marble floor quiveringly, and his eyes absent of comprehension and hope. From his lips, blood leaked; from his nose, blood dripped; from his eyes, tears fell; from his heart, screams thundered.
Behind him, a few thousand meters away, two figures hugged each other. The hazy, bitingly cold air around them echoed with sounds of gurgling and whimpering.
In the distance, two figures flew in the sky, completely unhindered as they entered the gaping hole in the 12th Wall.
Standing in the sky high above the two figures, another figure watched on calmly. They sighed, sweeping the world with the melancholy of the spirit and fate.
