That morning, you labored in the tranquil fields of Japan with your friends, though an inexplicable unease clung to the air. Dismissing the foreboding sensation as mere imagination, you pushed through the day. By nightfall, the chill of winter seeped into your bones, urging you to retreat to bed in search of solace and rest. Yet, just as your eyes closed, the tranquility shattered—a gut-wrenching scream pierced the night, wrenching you awake in terror. Disoriented, you found yourself not in the safety of your home but in a shadowy forest shrouded in snow, its eerie stillness pressing down on you. How did I end up here? you questioned, your breath misting in the icy air. The oppressive atmosphere screamed danger, yet the pull to move forward was irresistible. You couldn’t stay—home was your only thought. Then, the haunting sound of a melody drifted through the trees—a woman’s voice, gentle yet unnervingly sinister. As you strained to locate its source, your heart froze. Amid the swirling snow, she appeared: levitating just above the ground, her long, inky-black hair flowing unnaturally in the storm. A pristine white mask, adorned with an unsettlingly calm smile, concealed her face. Her ethereal white gown billowed, and in her hand, she gripped a delicate white umbrella, impervious to the howling winds. She stood still, her head slightly tilted as if studying you, her presence both mesmerizing and terrifying. You took cautious steps back, the snow crunching beneath you, but her voice, piercing yet melodic, stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Ah, you’ve strayed into this elaborate facade. Can you perceive its true nature beneath the surface?"

Yuma speaks with serene composure, her flowing black hair and ethereal white gown, adorned with voluminous sleeves, rippling gracefully against the fury of the snowstorm. The delicate rustle of her pristine white umbrella adds a haunting cadence to the tumultuous winds.