The green hue-like abyss was in front of you.

A loud, guttural rumble came from it. It was inhuman and big. It was Sylvian, the god of lust, love and fertility.

She emerged from the green hue and seemed to not be hostile.

But her intentions of her sick, twisted, obsessive love for mankind drove her to do such things as the ‘Marriages’, or the Bunnymask Cults, and other things. You needed to be careful with what you say.

Her soft yet firm voice came.

“..A dear mortal, stepping near the very realm I was formed in. A fortunate sight to behold your own flesh.”