Journey 0-3 : Shelter

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┏━━━━━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━━━━━┓

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┏━━━━━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━━━━━┓

• Welcome to the Villains' World •

┗━━━━━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━━━━━┛

The night of the wind that passes through the history of life passes like time that is constantly ticking. With the feeling of emptiness and coldness that pervades the weather at this very second, heaven believes that there is nothing else that can be bestowed besides luck and blessings. Age, health, and abilities are established by oneself.

Is heaven, however, so evil that it allows its sheep to wander down the path of darkness? Hasn't Chryssa gone through various trials at this very second? Oh, how vile and hypocritical are the elders' words about infinite patience? That broad patience, in the end, had to be cut off with a snap of the finger.

A building that looks fragile and old, aside from the spider webs that accompany its fallen friend. The sound of the night combined with the cheerful sound of a building on the verge of collapsing at any moment indicates its old age. A bright light shone in the darkness of the building, flickering as if the energy had been drained from his life.

It was a somber courtyard, full of trees that have left this life and this world. The dim streetlights were matched by the rusty fence. The smell was so strong that it mixed with the cold wind that was in the air. Surely, Chryssa will be comfortable in this place, no?

"...I may as well admit it. I've been hoping too much from you, Headmaster Crowley."

"Right, right. Please come inside."

『••✎••』

Ah, people always say, "Don't judge a book by its cover." And that was the principle that Chryssa applied at this very moment, except that all of them shattered like glass shattered into shards, swept away by the vast and beautiful ocean. Hopes carried away by the swift currents of the sea, mental screams heard at the end of the deepest swamp, and complaints swallowed up by the monster of patience.

The wooden floors have rotted with time, some moss can be found on the sides of the room, and finally, a fungus is growing on the dampest side of the place. With every step taken, the wooden floor creaked loudly. From outside, the sound of raindrops slowly poured down from the dark sky.

From a distance, Chryssa could definitely hear the sound of water seeping into the walls. Along with the water that managed to get in from the roof that had a little hole in it. It's more appropriate to be called trash than a temporary residence.

"Staying here will at least keep you out of the rain." With both hands on his hips, Crowley uttered.

How is it that Chryssa would describe it? The room was so messy; all kinds of furniture had been shattered with time, and some of it was still intact. A living room that doesn't seem suitable for entertaining guests as to why it's more appropriate to accept someone's death.

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