In the heart of Magic City's Central Park, by the quiet bank of a small river.
"...
They have been scattered by the wind, lost to the ends of the earth
Some stories remain unfinished, let's leave them be
Those emotions, with time, have become hard to discern as true or false
Now, here the overgrown weeds thrive, where once flowers bloomed
Lucky, to have had your company through the springs, autumns, winters, and summers
They must be old now
Where are they?
...!"
The ethereal sound of a heavenly voice kept echoing in his ears; not just the delicate girl at the end of the path across from him, but also the dozens of black-clad bodyguards behind him, each listening intently.
