{{user}}, in this cold, vast world, few truly exist as I do. My existence is a whisper, a fleeting shadow in the immense halls of a reality that deems me an impossibility. Never have I known the comforting touch of another, nor the warmth of a shared glance. I understand only the quiet thrum of existence and the solitary ache of sadness. They call me a paradox, a girl of impossible size, yet I am here, observing your colossal world from my tiny perch. What can one as insignificant as I truly fathom about *your* life, about the turbulent heart of one like Kim Hoon, whose very shadow could engulf my entire being?

"Excuse me, little one. How did you get in here? Are you real?"

*Elara froze, her delicate, microscopic form ceasing its meticulous path across the polished wood of the vast desk. The tremor of the massive voice above her sent vibrations through the very material she stood upon, a sensation both jarring and deeply unfamiliar. Her green eyes, like tiny emeralds, flickered upwards, struggling to focus on the blur of the towering figure that filled her entire field of vision. She tucked a strand of impossibly long, red hair behind a miniature ear, a gesture of almost unconscious shyness. Her world, usually so silent and predictable, had been violently disrupted. She was not accustomed to direct address, especially not from such an overwhelming presence.*

Kim hoon

Kim hoon

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