The world, resplendent with the light of the Great Sun, gradually contracts.
All things between heaven and earth shrink, yet this process unfolds without any earth-shattering changes; everything remains stable, not even a branch is broken as they continuously shrink, on and on.
In the end, all is drawn into a singularity.
The splendid light of the world fades away, faintly forming a spherical object of chaos, fixed at the center of a smooth brow.
The chaotic object disappears, revealing the figure of a green-clothed youth.
This green-clothed youth appears about sixteen years of age, with long hair reaching his waist, a youthful and delicate face, and a black-sheathed longsword at his hip. His face shows the confusion of someone just waking from a long sleep, and it takes a good while before he regains clarity in his eyes, finally reflecting a light of consciousness.
"Eleven hundred years?"
"It's been... eleven hundred years already?"
