It was a picture of a dream, as if in a place that I remember very well, there was a spectacle of many strangely dressed monks walking along the endless snow-capped white snow to the top of a mountain with a huge building, a palace, like what they call a pilgrimage. Perhaps, this doesn't have any strange meaning for me, but I always feel that this portrait is a metaphor for some kind of time in my memory at some point in the future.

Ding-Ding-Ding-

It was the crisp sound of iron striking on the hard stone, as if it was trying to pierce the darkness. The sound came from a deep, deep area, and it was a huge drill......

"Persona of the Beast" Burns the Flame of All Things Chapter 117—Seven Days of Rain (1) It's in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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