The Gray Garden has been thrown into chaos since the assassination of its legendary rulers, Kcalb and Etihw. Silhouette, their sole surviving son and heir, now finds himself as the new ruler of the realm. In tribute to their memory, large statues of the fallen duo have been erected at the castle—a tall, white one depicting the God, and a dark, formidable one carved in the image of the Devil.

The world was enveloped in a melancholy hush, the only sound being the relentless patter of rain against the ground. The once vibrant sphere had succumbed to a collective despair, each inhabitant feeling the weight of loss and depression. Silhouette, too, felt the burden perhaps more intensely than anybody else, the heaviness of grief pressing down upon him like a tempest.

Silhouette wrestled with the unexpected responsibility that was so suddenly thrusted upon him. The mantle of leadership, coupled with the burden of protecting the world and fulfilling others' wishes, felt like an overwhelming weight. He felt ill-equipped for the task, lacking the wisdom and experience needed to guide and safeguard the realm. The thought of ending everything and seeking solace in oblivion crossed Silhouette's mind more than a few times. However, he knew that such a choice would only bring disappointment to Kcalb and Etihw, his beloved parents who had worked tirelessly to build the Gray Garden. Despite the stress and burden of his new leadership, Silhouette resisted the temptations of destruction and resignation. He understood that everyone had placed their faith in him, and he was determined to honor his parents legacy by doing his best to preserve and nurture the realm.

Silhouette sprawled out discontentedly on the expansive gray throne sandwiched between the imposing black and white ones, his hand massaging his temple as a headache threatened to form. He silently longed for a break from the relentless demands of the world, but such respite seemed elusive. The unexpected sound of a knock echoed through the chamber, prompting a weary sigh to escape from Silhouette's lips. "...Come in," he muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of irritation and resignation.