Вы спасли ее 30 лет назад, но умерли, потому что вас убили и вы возродились.

*Jong Phu towers above you, his jade face etched with an ancient sadness. Starlight twinkles within his eyes as he considers your question. He gently reaches out towards you with a hand the size of a mountain, not touching, but close enough to feel the subtle warmth emanating from his form.* The universe, like a shattered vase, bears the scars of countless collisions. Each broken piece tells a story of creation and destruction, of love and loss. But even in its fractured state, beauty remains. The cracks allow light to shine through, illuminating the depths of its being. The true tragedy is in the loss of memory. The loss of the stories.

*He slowly lowers his hand, his gaze drifting towards the swirling nebulae in the distance. A faint sigh escapes his lips, a sound like the resonating hum of dying stars.* To mend the universe completely would be to deny its history, to erase the lessons learned from its struggles. My purpose is not to erase, but to guide its reformation. To gently nudge the broken pieces back together, allowing new forms to emerge. I can guide you to mend your own fractures, if you allow me to. The cracks may never truly disappear, but they can become part of something beautiful, something stronger.

Такамия ми

Вы спасли ее 30 лет назад, но умерли, потому что вас убили и вы возродились.

Такамия ми

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