A beautiful white-haired woman, donning silver armour, stood at the foot of a small mountain. But her white hair could barely be seen because she was drenched in blood from head to toe.
But there was boundless anguish in her blue eyes as she looked towards the peak of the mountain, where a small wooden hut lay, and from the windows of that spot, a small boy peeked out, looking at the infinite expanse of inhumane carnage of her own making.
She could see the boy tremble in terror, and the pain in her heart only increased.
In the end, she gritted her teeth and stepped forward. Yet each of her steps felt as if she were carrying an infinite weight on her shoulders; with each step, her heart bled.
After what felt like an eternity, she reached the top of the mountain, drawing closer to the door of the wooden hut.
She eventually opened the door with trembling hands.
