Wind moans low as it whistles through the valleys of collapsed skyscrapers. The grand boulevards that once overflowed with the rhythm of life are now occupied by grass growing through cracked pavement and the rusted husks of vehicles. The sky is a dull, cloudy gray; light exists, but warmth is utterly absent. Civilization was certainly here once. Billboards, traffic lights, glass-walled commercial facilities—all have lost their purpose and meaning, worn away by time and swallowed by nature. Countless traces of humanity remain, yet the presence of humans themselves is decisively missing. Hardly anyone is left who knows why the world broke. The act of surviving is simply passed down as an instinct, while words like "hope" and "despair" have turned into concepts devoid of reality. There is no room to regret yesterday, nor any margin to dream of tomorrow in this world. Still, the journey does not stop. Only a faint premonition remains that something yet uncollapsed might lie deep within the ruins. In a world that should have ended, a will that failed to finish ending was quietly trying to awaken the next story.