#full transcript

Bound by Form

The morning sun feels warm and light. As I clearly hear what Mr. Vulture says on the phone my eyes slowly widen.

Serena: Really? A production team sent me an audition offer?

Serena: Yeah, of course I know Peppermint! You mean the hugely popular manga artist SealEscapePod, right?

Vulture: That’s her. Her works get adapted all the time, and many lead actors become famous through her stories. This series is based on a new work set in the same universe as Take This, Other World. It’s not public yet, but the team and Peppermint think you’re a perfect fit.

An opportunity like this landing on me feels completely unexpected.

Vulture: That said, Peppermint will be on set the entire time, and the director is very demanding. The schedule is tight. If you take it, your break ends immediately. Also, the role is unusual. It’s not a human in the traditional sense, but a mannequin that gains consciousness.

Serena: A mannequin? The kind designer’s use?

My heart starts racing. I search my memory, but can’t think of anything like this in recent years. Could this be a once-in-a-lifetime chance? A mannequin has no face, yet it carries endless possibilities of beauty. If an object so simple could be used to express thoughts and emotion…

Serena: Mr. Vulture, please help me take this role. I really want it!

Vulture: I knew you would be. I’ve sent the script, the original manga, and all the reference materials to your work email.

Serena: Thank you Mr. Vulture!

I hang up and pull the curtains open, letting sunlight flood the room. The city is waking up below. I take a deep breath and open the attachments right away.

Serena: Peppermint’s work really is as good as everyone says…

I get completely absorbed and lose track of time. When I finally snap back, I’m already on the last page, and I’ve even ordered the merch.

Serena: …Ahem. Anyway, time to read the adapted script.

Serena: So that’s it. The role is the princess’s mannequin. She often puts her gowns on it, then sneaks out the window to play… Then one day, a Wish Elf’s magic gives the mannequin consciousness. It leaves the palace and starts traveling, going on adventures with small animals…

I understand the story now, but the audition worries me. How do you act as a mannequin? Is it enough to just stand there?

I look toward the corner of my room, at the mannequin every designer owns. It has no face. Its smooth surface reflects a cold, dull light. Just looking at it pulls my thoughts straight back to years ago.

It’s backstage at a major international fashion show. The place is crowded and chaotic, yet one sharp, unforgiving voice cuts through everything else.

Professor: Serena, stop. How many times have I told you? You think too much. You feel too much. Forget your body. Forget your feelings. Think of yourself as a simple vase—your only job is to show off the flowers. Right now, you exist only for the clothes. What is that look on your face when you walk? Who are you smiling at?

My expression slowly freezes. I only wanted the clothes to feel more approachable. That’s all. I grip the heavy, layered skirt and stand there, unsure how to respond.

Professor: This is a fashion show. We need a model, not you. Your job is to present the designer’s work, not your pretty face. Do you know how many people would kill to wear that dress? Have you been eating carelessly again? Why are you wasting everyone’s effort.

The mentor circles me, breathing fast. Everyone backstage is watching, like I’m the one who embarrassed him.

Professor: When it’s your turn on stage, turn yourself into the background. If you can’t do that, say it now! Until you figure it out, don’t step on stage again!

I lower my head, swallow the hurt, and retreat into the shadows behind the curtain. The final gown finishes its walk. The booming music stops, the harsh lights go dark, and the backstage is left empty and messy. I stand alone before a towering mirror. Reflected back at me is a young, polished face that looks terrifyingly empty.

Serena: …

Maybe I’ve read too long, or maybe the early-morning exhaustion catches up to me. Lost in memory, I drift into sleep without realizing it.

I have a strange, vivid dream. In it, I really become a mannequin forged from metal. I’m placed in the corner of a lavish palace. My joints are stiff and spherical, wrapped in a long dress covered in pearls and gemstones. I can hear distant music and laughter, blurred and far away, but I can’t move at all.

Serena: No… I can’t move… I hate this…

Heartless Doll

Time slips by, and suddenly the day of rehearsals is upon me. I stand in the princess’s lavish bedchamber. When the director calls “Action,” I take on a fragile, stiff pose and slowly close my eyes. I force myself to recall the techniques from my modeling days, repeating them silently. Forget the body. Ignore the feeling. I think to myself, I’ve been good at this for a long time now.

I hold a blank, mask-like expression. Then, as the elf’s magic flows into my body, my lips slowly lift without my control.

Director: Cut!

I blink and look toward the director, hopeful and nervous. She rests her chin in thought. Beside her, Peppermint bites down on her pen, clearly weighing her words.

Director: Serena… you showed the contrast before and after the mannequin gains consciousness very clearly. It’s great work.

Just as I start to relax, the director continues.

Director: But it’s still missing something.

Serena: Sorry… could you be more specific? Which part needs work?

Peppermint: The emotional shift happens too fast. It doesn’t quite feel like a newly born consciousness…

Peppermint, who’s said to be very hard to talk to, explains it very clearly. I lower my head and take in their words.

Director: It’s okay. This is only the first rehearsal! This role is difficult, and it takes time to get it right. Serena, take a break for now. Watch the other auditions and try approaching it from a different angle. Perhaps you’ll gain some new inspiration.

Serena: Thank you, Director. I’ll think it through again.

I pull over a chair and sit by the monitor, intently watching the other actors perform.

When rehearsal ends and the crew starts packing up, I ask the director if I can stay a little longer on my own, to see what ideas come to me. The massive studio finally falls silent. One light after another goes out, leaving only faint green exit lights. The once-lavish set now feels vast and empty.

I walk slowly through the empty palace set and stop in front of the finely crafted mannequin. Moonlight spills across it through the window. I reach out and lightly touch the smooth metal surface. Oh Mannequin… in all those long years, what were you longing for?

Serena: Do you long to look like the princess, to have a face full of life and expression? Or do you want to break free from the stand that holds you in place, to move on your own and see the world beyond the window? Or… do you want a real body—one that can feel pain, feel happiness, and live as a human?

Maybe all of those… But for a consciousness that has just been born, these wishes are too specific, too developed. For a newly awakened mind, the world is new—a blank slate. How could it possibly understand what those things are?

Serena: So what does the very beginning of a soul—coming from nothing—actually look like?

>That sounds a lot like what you went through during your transformation.<

[Player]: That sounds a lot like what you went through during your transformation, Serena.

Serena: Really…?

Back then, I was at my lowest point, trapped by the industry’s definition of “perfection,” unable to see a way out. Until I made the choice to return home and step once more onto that familiar land, rich with the smell of earth. That long-lost joy of being alive flowed back into my parched heart. In that moment, “Perfect Serena” ceased to exist, and I felt reborn.

Serena: I see… I realize what I need to portray is the process itself—how a heart grows full, how an empty shell slowly gains substance.

I stop trying to clear my mind and instead let my thoughts wander freely, allowing myself to imagine and to dream.

I feel the cool night air in the studio brush against my arms. I imagine this is what it’s like for the mannequin, sensing the movement of air for the first time. I catch the faint sound of insects in the distance. Perhaps this is how the mannequin hears the vivid world beyond the window for the first time.

The images in my mind grow clearer. My soul lifts from the magnified palace and joyfully flies toward the lively orchard of my hometown. The sunlight is bright and golden. I run barefoot across soft, damp grass as the fresh scent of earth and greenery rushes toward me.  I see Mok laughing as he chases after me. I see my mother standing on the field ridge, her face showing a warm smile.

Serena: If a mannequin’s very first experiences were moments like this—so full of life—then joy would grow naturally from them, along with a real heart, born of a world that is simple, honest, and undeniably beautiful.

Cheerful Spring

I hear a soft rustling sound. The princess tells me, “That’s the wind.”

I hear another gentle sound. The princess says, “That’s rain.”

Like a light-footed butterfly, she runs into the bedchamber. She winks at me, quickly slips out of her layered lace gown, and drapes it over my body.

Princess: It;s so heavy, and so tight! Way too impractical! Old friend, I’m counting on you again today! Hopefully I can get away with it again. When I come back, I’ll tell you everything about the outside world!

The princess quickly changes into riding clothes, leads me to the vanity and turns me to face the mirror. Then she slips out through the window. Then she slips out through the window. Silence returns to the chamber. After some time, a faint sound approaches from outside the window.

???: Whew… There are just too many people making wishes. Why don’t elves get days off in this kingdom? 

???: Your Highness?

A small figure glowing faint blue flutters translucent wings and lands on the windowsill, curiously studying the elegant figure before the vanity.

Elf: Why are you standing so straight today? Oh! You’re not the princess at all. You’re a remarkably lifelike mannequin! Hello there, little mannequin!

The elf playfully circles me, then settles lightly on my shoulder.

Elf: Everyone in this world always seems to have so many wishes, but I’ve never heard yours.

The elf looks expectantly at my featureless face, waits a few seconds, then suddenly taps her forehead in realization.

Elf: I forgot, you can’t speak yet!

She smiles at me and takes out a wishing coin from her pocket, glowing with a soft, gentle light.

Elf: That’s okay. Just focus on your wish. The coin will sense what’s truly in your heart!

As she speaks, the coin slowly begins to spin, radiating warmth. I feel a gentle current of heat slowly seeping into my hollow chest. The first sensation to become clear is the faint airflow stirred by the elf’s fluttering wings. Next comes the cool touch of silk against my body, followed by the warmth of sunlight resting on the fabric. Finally, a heartbeat is born—like a tiny living thing gently stirring inside my chest. These newborn sensations gather into a longing I can no longer ignore. I realize that I truly have a wish of my own.

Mannequin: I want… I want to keep feeling everything in this world.

The moment my wish becomes clear, the coin bursts into brilliant light, transforming into countless golden threads of magic that flow into my body. I slowly lower my gaze to my hands, then find my eyes drawn to the reflection in the mirror.

Elf: You’re smiling, little mannequin. Do you feel it? Go on now. With your newborn heart, feel the wind, feel the sunlight, feel the ground beneath your feet, and welcome every unknown surprise waiting ahead!

I watch my expression come to life—from blank stillness, to a soft tremble as magic flows in, and finally to wonder as I feel the wind and sun. Finally, I see my smile in the mirror—open, unguarded, and bright. It’s like the little bird in the princess’s story, seeing the sky for the very first time. 

Mannequin: Yes!

Director: Cut! Perfect! Absolutely incredible! That’s exactly the feeling we needed!

The set erupts with applause and sincere praise. Peppermint, who has been waiting nervously off to the side, can’t help but smile.

Peppermint: That was truly amazing. Really. Thank you so much!

Serena: Thank you, Director! Thank you, Peppermint! And thank you everyone. Great work today!

Director: Nailed it in one take—everything feels right! We can use this take as-is! Such a smooth start is a great sign. That’s a wrap! Dinner’s on me tonight!

1. Calamity Lava

Leonid: You've arrived, visitor. Since you made it here, it means the Ark is facing chaos like never before.

>Oh, you knew?<

Player: Oh, you knew? So you're aware that Marina and Aeon are...

Leonid: Chaos tends to reveal hidden truths, and you're now standing before the very origin the two Ark administrators have been seeking—the answer to all their questions. This is the memory of the Ark, and of their creation.

Once, a human entered the Ocean of Memories. he sought beauty and knowledge across the Star Sea and rebuilt the faith in the pursuit of truth from the depths of the Abyss.

He learned everything there was to know, gaining powers that transcended gods and mortals. His presence became a threat to the ruler of the Star Sea, igniting a war among the gods.

The war between the old and new gods swept across the Ocean of Memories, causing countless stars to fall. Miraland's civilization was caught in the crossfire, fading away as the battles raged.

Eventually, the war came to an end, at the cost of a god's sacrifice.

This is the story you already know. 

Now, I stand on this barren battlefield, gazing at the silent ruins. the sea, devoid of starlight, feels lifeless, with only faint shadows drifting on its surface.

>Why haven't you left?<

Player: Leonid, why haven't you left?

Leonid: Beneath this desolation and silence, something seems to be brewing.

I hear a faint tremor, and the water around my feet begins to ripple.

Suddenly, molten lava bursts from the seabed, and waves of scorching heat spread across the dark sea. the water hisses and roars as it evaporates and vanishes.

>What's happening?!<

Player: What's happening?!

Leonid: Just as I expected. The Ocean of Memories' order is unraveling, and if it collapses, it will lead to complete destruction.

Player: Destruction?! But the war of the gods ended, didn't it?

Leonid: The collapse of order is like a boulder caught in the tides of war. Even the God of Styling's sacrifice can't stop its descent once it begins. The order of the Ocean of Memories is maintained by the chaos of the unconscious and the light of awareness. With so many gods asleep and countless stars yet to awaken, this collapse can’t be stopped.

The Ocean of Memories quickly descends into chaos.

The Ocean of Memories descends into chaos. The abyss erupts in flames, turning into boiling lava. The heated sea turns into a thick mist, blotting out the stars. In my eyes, the world melts into a raging ball of fire. 

Soon, the lava will spread to every corner of the Ocean of Memories and eventually reach Miraland. Neither the sleeping gods nor the unaware humans can escape.

They try to consume me, the only human in the Star Sea, but they can’t even burn the hem of my clothes.

I quietly watch the destruction, feeling a strange sense of wonder.

Destruction, in its way, is a grand and intense form of beauty. Civilization blooms with the brightest flames amidst disaster and war.

Ancient buildings crumble, ink fades from the pages of poems and designs, and both great artworks and worthless scraps ignite together in extravagant flames…

Seeing the predictions come true brings me a strange sense of excitement—I even feel my blood begin to boil.

>Don’t you want to save?<

Player: …Don’t you want to save this world?

Leonid: Why save it?

Player: You…

Leonid: Aren’t you curious about what kind of world will be born from this destruction?  Compared to the new possibilities rising from the ashes, there’s nothing worth clinging to in the old world.

In the clash between lava and sea, starlight begins to reappear. Those are the starlights of humanity. One by one, they rise, like moths to a flame, rushing toward the boundary between lava and sea, as if trying to stop the unstoppable.

Though they can’t fully grasp the reality of destruction, they still struggle—seeking, saving, and even creating. 

Their struggle may be futile, but their starlight shines with brilliance. Amid the destruction, their glow stands out, and I find myself wanting to reach out and hold it.

As I reach out, there’s a flash, and suddenly a mirror appears in my hand.

This is… the Personality Mirror, carrying Designer’s Reflections.

?: Sir, I’ve finished the outfit!

A young figure appears in my memory, holding up clothes designed for me, her excitement palpable. 

She was my first student. Long ago, in Miraland, I left her Designer’s Reflection in the dream Star Sea.

She wasn’t particularly talented, and I can’t even remember her name.

But her starlight was beautiful, and it led me to the Ocean of Memories.

I don’t know where her Designer’s Reflection is now, but the feeling when I left it was urgent and passionate.

So now… am I feeling the same as I leave these starlights?

2. Designer’s Reflection

My emotions ripple, for the first time in ages.

I eagerly touch the starlights, which turn into countless mirrors, floating on the Ocean of Memories. Their light moves with the waves, like a tiny galaxy.

The lava from the Abyss is drawn to this newborn galaxy, a raging storm forming around me. 

The Designer’s Reflections swirls around me, forming a weak yet determined shield, just like the starlight that surrounded the God of Styling.

…Are you trying to protect me?

Then prove to me your potential.

Like a conductor at the end of days, I resonate with the memories of these Designer’s Reflections, listening to the stories of different humans.

Those voices separate and intertwine in this calamitous storm, creating a harmonious symphony under my guidance.

Finally, they unleash a tremendous force—

Brilliant flames converge into a surging stream of stars. Under its impact, the raging hot lava cools rapidly, deposits, and quickly sinks into the seawater.

I watch, delighted.

The calamity before me has, surprisingly, come to a brief pause.

I begin to like these mirrors.

I reach out and gently brush the mirrors that joyfully dance after repelling the lava, feeling a hint of nostalgia and tenderness.

The starlight of humanity, beloved by the God of Styling, once fought to protect the gods they loved during the War of Gods. Even now, it has the power to create extraordinary miracles.

Precise observation, rigorous calculations, and concise formulas and theorems culminate in the true knowledge of reason.

Suddenly, a thought crosses my mind—after the world ends, where will these Designer’s Reflections go?

Subtle touch, wild imagination, and grand romantic inspiration weave together into the supreme beauty of emotion.

Though the Designer’s Reflections were born from fragile humans, they are the record of civilizations, proof that the ultimate truth and beauty I cherish once existed.

When the Star Sea vanishes, the starlight of civilization will lose its foundation and fade into nothingness.

After the world ends, only the prophet who surpasses all gods and humans, will remain.

 I feel a deep sense of loss because of this. 

I have to do something. If they could last forever, I wouldn’t regret any price I had to pay.

>What are you thinking?<

Player: Leonid, what are you thinking?

Leonid: I’ve made a decision.

Dazzling and beautiful reflections of starlight, let me create a home for you— 

A place where the record of civilization can accompany you, and where supreme beauty and truth will shine forever.

I raise my hand to my chest, feeling the steady beat of my heart, and then, without hesitation, pierce through it.

>Leonid!<

Player: Leonid, what are you doing?!

My blood-soaked hand pulls out my beating human heart. Blood runs down my palm, dripping into the seawater at my feet.

It’s a beautiful heart of flesh, beating fiercely, having experienced both the beauty of emotion and the knowledge of reason. It’s the vessel of omniscience, the core of my existence.

It’s why I can survive the destruction.

Leonid: I will create a museum to preserve civilization.

This human heart will give it eternal protection and power. 

And imbue it with my abilities, allowing it to create countless Designer’s Reflections and record the brightest starlight.

This museum, holding countless records, will become the most powerful “consciousness” in the Star Sea, restoring order to it. Perhaps, in doing so, it will save the world.

Player: Didn’t you say you wouldn’t save the world?

Leonid: I’m not trying to save the world. I just want to preserve the beauty and truth I love.

>Will you die?<

Player: Will… you die?

Leonid: I won’t abandon my human heart.

As if making a promise to someone, I throw the burning heart into the sea of lava.

Consciousness fades as seawater engulfs my body and heart, and I smile.

This will be an unparalleled masterpiece—I shall call it the Ark.

Heart of the Ark

The familiar sensation of approaching death wraps around me.

The connection to ultimate truth and knowledge breaks, and I lose all my abilities, slipping into a state of unknowing.

What is happening to this world? How far has civilization progressed? What has become of the star trails? Are there new stars being born?

Curiosity gnaws at me, but all I can feel is the oppressive darkness. I hear nothing, see nothing.

I can’t observe, deduce, verify, or change anything.

For someone whose pursuit is knowledge, this is the cruelest punishment.

This ignorance makes me restless, even anxious, but that soon fades into the darkness.

The world is silent. I suddenly miss the endless noise of the Abyss. Compared to this complete emptiness, the chaos of emotions almost seems interesting.

Time and space lose their meaning. My sense of self seems ready to dissolve at any moment. 

Is this death? Will I die here?

>Leonid!<

Player: Leonid, wake up! Don’t sleep!

So noisy.

But beside your voice, there’s something else—something resonating with my consciousness.

Ah, it’s the heart that sank into the sea of lava.

It;s being squeezed, scorched, cracking constantly. Tossed by waves and storms, it seems like it will shatter any second.

But it doesn’t. Instead it’s forged stronger, clearer, reflecting a brilliant iridescence.

Accompanied by this iridescence, something begins to change in the silence.

Old memories resurface; fragments of sound and familiar flashes.

I see my first student.

Those sincere eyes, full of trust, reflected the starlight of an ordinary human. That starlight, touched by me, fell and became the light guiding me to the Star Sea.

Next, the darkness and chaos I saw in the Abyss—the debates on knowledge and desire, and the countless questions I cast out to all civilizations.

The pink-haired girl gave me the answer I was most satisfied. In the distant future I foresaw, she wore dustless black wings, just like me, and emerged from the abyss to see the starlight and sun.

Lastly, the god who composed hymns for humanity’s starlight. 

They are wearing a crown of flowers and golden leaves, with white wings wrapped around them.

The harp in their hands sings of love for humanity, even though it summoned the waves of destruction during the War of Gods.

Twinkle Twinkle, Dustless Feather, Prophecy.

These are my designs, my memories. Different fragments play before me, debating yet somehow in harmony.

?: I’ll make sure your name is known to all!

[image of Nikki on screen] One must have unbreakable faith to break out of the abyss.

? [image of god of styling on screen]: Leonid, never lose touch with humanity.

They’re calling my name.

This call fills my empty consciousness, giving substance to my existence as “Leonid.”

I feel myself growing more solid, and the dark cage shatters under the pressure of that voice and light, revealing fragmented gaps.

I look out, trying to understand the cause of this miracle.

I see the light from my human heart extending, capturing, the starlight of past and future, creating countless Designer’s Reflections.

Among them, I see my own image.

My Designer’s Reflections form a starry chain, linking me to my human heart.

So it was my Designer’s Reflections that awakened these memories.

My heart had regarded Leonid as part of human civilization, and it made me the first and brightest to be reborn.

>You never abandoned your human heart.<

Player: After all, you never abandoned your human heart, right?

Leonid: You’re right… Perhaps I’ll never be an entirely objective observer.

My Designer;s Reflections and the mirrors I;’ve created swirl around the heart, dancing.

The first Designer’s Reflection I created was drawn by light, traveling far to reunite with the dancing mirrors.

After what feels like an eternity, the heart sheds its flesh, transforming into a giant heart-shaped prism.

The ocean of lava, once bent on consuming all life and civilization, stills in its presence.

The deep red of calamity fades, replaced by a calm blue. The chaos sinks into the Abyss, and twinkling starlight is born once more from the sea.

The crystal heart makes the water ripple in rhythm with its pulse. When their rhythm synchronizes, gentle and silent time spreads outward.

It’s time to wake up.

The heart-shaped prism’s iridescence shatters the darkness around me, and as I resonate with it, I once again perceive the world around me.

I finally open my eyes, seeing clearly the scene before me—

Above the sea, massive waves are frozen mid-air, with auroras and rainbows appearing at once. A huge, marvelous structure sets sail.

Eternal Voyage

I rise from beneath the sea, stepping into the museum I named the Ark.

My human heart—now the Heart of the Ark—spins quietly before me, stirring the gentle sea and refracting brilliant light.

It senses the starlight flowing through the Ocean of Memories, capturing those brilliant designs and beauty.

Two tracks extend from the Heart of the Ark, spiraling upward like a double helix, transmitting the recorded memories and linking scattered buildings on the sea.

I ride the trains on those tracks, traveling to different areas of the Ark.

I pass a moon-shaped building where all uncategorized records are kept.

Moving forward, I see a collection area.

Exhibition halls float in the air, each with a unique style—from pavilions from Cloud to grand cathedrals from Pigeon.

Designs and beauty are precisely categorized into indexes, displayed in the exhibition halls, Countless Personality Mirrors float there, shimmering eternally.

I wander through this museum of civilization, feeling joy and fulfillment. I listen to the memories debate and narrate, feeling the vitality in them.

The Ark is perfect, that much is true. But despite its flawlessness, it seems to be missing something…

What could it be?

I notice a part of the Ark not meant for preserving civilization—

A precisely designed laboratory, with a giant clock surrounded by gears, and a garden full of wonders, with a glorious pink tree that never withers at its center.

From those two buildings, I hear human voices.

It’s a brother and sister. The brother calmly guides the Ark’s course with logic, while the sister lets her emotions run wild, excitedly planning various games. They trust each other deeply, their bond close.

Aeon and Marina, they call themselves the administrators of the Ark.

I see now. The Ark truly is my greatest masterpiece. It decided it needed administrators, knowing that machines would eventually break and stop, but human curiosity would persist forever.

I feel satisfied with what I see before me. It’s time to leave.

>Wait…<

Player: Wait, so Aeon and Marina are your creations?

Leonid: I feel an inexplicable closeness to them. There is a connection between us… or perhaps, they are a part of me.

Player: What?

Leonid: To be precise, they are the two parts of my human heart—emotion and reason.

My heart recognized the need for administrators, and so they were born along with the Ark, becoming an inseparable part of it.

I’m not their creator, now have I determined their fate. Their lives are their own.

Player: Aeon and Marina have been searching for their origins. Don’t you plan on telling them?

Leonid: Eternal confusion is eternal motivation. They’ll continue collecting memories from the Ocean of Memories, seeking their past and future and fulfilling their duties.

A perfect system, wouldn’t you say?

Player: That’s cruel.

Leonid: One day they’ll find their answers. When you arrived here, that process had already begun, hadn’t it?

I leave the Ark, heading toward the Ocean of Memories. The Star Sea has grown calm, more beautiful than when I first saw it. After the greatest disaster, the most vibrant starlight will always be reborn.

The sleeping gods are waking, the conflicts and calamities in Miraland have ceased, and the pursuit of love and beauty is rekindling.

This world’s civilization will continue for a while longer. It’s something worth celebrating.

>You saved the world.<

Player: Leonid, you saved the world.

Leonid: I said I didn’t intend to save it. But now that it’s done I feel a slight relief.

I sense that the God of Styling, who should have perished, still exists somewhere in time and space.

Because of this, I've begun an experiment—to explore the possibility that the God of Stylings continued existence, and perhaps, their return.

If the world had ended, there would have been no stage for my experiment.

To this end, I created the concept of Styling Power, initiated the Era of Styling, delivered the Prophecy of Doom at civilization’s dawn, to evoke the will to save, to resonate with their consciousness.

Leonid: My experiment finally yielded a result.

The God of Styling persists because even if forgotten by everyone, the girl from another dimension and her companions still love styling and beauty.

It was through her and your efforts that they returned to this land. And this time, they gave everything to save the world, disappearing from all time and space.

A rather boring outcome, isn’t it?

>You seem sad.<

Player: You seem sad…

I gaze at the last fragment of moonlight in my hand. It will fade, but for now, it blooms gently—like a soft wing, like an unfinished song.

Leonid: Let’s talk about something more interesting. All my attempts back then had predetermined outcomes, except for one—

The Prophecy of Doom.

The prophecy, spread by Prophet Salah, gave rise to many beliefs about destruction.

The archpriest of Pigeon Church declared that Glory would save those who believed in the sun. Ninir Chapel’s envoy proclaimed that Darkness would forgive those who worshipped the moon.

The Wasteland priest described doomsday as a hell of karmic fire, while North Kingdom ballads spoke of an ultimate frozen time and space.

Just as the Ocean of Memories birthed gods from people’s beliefs, every collective understanding formed by Miraland’s civilization profoundly impacts the Star Sea.

This impact, in turn, affects Miraland. Though we don’t yet know what the outcome will be, signs are already emerging.

>The rewritten prophecy?<

Player: Are you talking about the rewritten prophecy? Leonid, is all this connected to you? What do you truly want?

Leonid: I’ve always been an observer driven by curiosity and the pursuit of knowledge. 

All I’ve done is observe the progress of civilization—witnessing its growth, decline, and destruction.

Player: But the prophecy has brought war, and destruction may come again…

Leonid: The Ocean of Memories and Miraland constantly influence each other. One day, they’ll drag each other toward destruction—a predetermined fate at the end of the star trails.