Su Ming'an's knuckles trembled slightly.
—Feeling annoyed, feeling rebellious.
Hatred for the endless passing, hatred for why he couldn't intervene.
Hatred for being arranged by the system's destiny, forced to stand by and watch.
To save a Red Rose prop, he had to watch as the knight closed his eyes in the cold night.
To save a puppet prop, he had to watch the crescent mark disappear from his palm.
As if it were predetermined destiny, watching the nine people of the Ruined World pass away one by one before his eyes, exhausting all efforts but unable to change fate, only to watch the names increase one by one.
The weight of a human life, lighter than a prop.
He had long, long ago... started to feel weary of this "equivalent exchange."
...
The sky curtain was dyed with the color of flames.
