Clouds.
Clouds surrounded everything.
This was a place beyond the sight of the world.
There was an old man, with long white hair and beard, wearing a magnificent, radiant outfit.
Beside him was a child listening intently.
"My disciple, let me tell you the story of the First World."
"This world has many Cycles, each time the world ends, it is recreated once again."
"Whenever the world's twilight approaches, the sky will be a pure, white color. Some say it's the light created by the Apocalypse God, others say it's the fur of the White Beast devouring the world."
The child listened with wide, round eyes.
"This world is indeed different from other worlds we've seen, but you must remember."
"What becomes of this world is not for us to decide."
"I may roam, but I cannot hinder the Heavenly Path."
"Each world is very fragile."
"Every living being in the world is very fragile."
