Tsukuyomi observed with a faint amusement as the world around seemed to vanish, unraveling into nothingness. All that remained was the shimmering trace of an illusion.
"Fate is set. Mere actors play upon this stage called life."
A mysterious smile touched his lips, one that seemed to veil more than it revealed. The very air grew thick, like a dream pressing at the edges of consciousness, a fog that dulled the senses. Yet beneath the haze, his words could still be heard, drifting through the quiet.
"Oh, my apologies… perhaps the illusion was a bit too much. Confusion, I imagine, must be setting in by now."
The sky, or what seemed to be the sky, rippled like water, shifting in colors and patterns beyond comprehension. Was it still part of the illusion, or had reality truly begun to unravel?
Tsukuyomi's voice came again, this time softer, almost a whisper that blended into the air.
"Do you see now? The lines that bind all things together… They can be bent, twisted, even severed, if one knows where to pull."
His hand reached out, fingers tracing invisible threads, as if plucking at the very fabric of existence itself. The world shifted again, the ground beneath trembling ever so slightly.