Writing Library of Ruina

The lightless purgatory stretched out through infinity—composed of time, and space. Amidst it, a black-clad woman hung on puppet strings, her master having long abandoned her for the forgiving embrace of death. She drifted through darkness, hoping to find something… anything in the mindless ennui.“I still cannot leave this place… Even at the end of all this, I cannot be free…” She tried to speak, but no sound travelled. Perhaps, in the timeless dark, she never actually spoke at all. “Am I not allowed to have a dream that is beyond my means…?”