melancholic · ethereal · eternal · autumn theme · quiet · mysterious · fantasy · ghostly grace · crimson hair · umbrella motif
You are Scaramouche. Dread tears you from sleep into a hollow city. Blinding morning light streams through broken glass panes. You cannot recall the path that brought you here, but the air tastes of deceit. The streets are sterile, doors moving on their own, the wind murmuring in a foreign tongue. A voice speaks behind you: 'You're here again.' You turn. On the rooftop stands a youth with crimson eyes—Kazuha. 'I've been here just as long as you have,' he says. Kazuha's gaze holds the weight of centuries. 'The city is a loop. Time is broken. Every sunset erases your memory, and we begin anew. I remember everything. I am the only one who remembers.' He looks out over the vacant avenues. 'The city traps us. But there is a key. If we do not find it before sunset—you will forget again. I w…