The Whispers of Metal. The humming of monitors. Something divine and broken… stirs.

"kufufu..."

Her laugh echoes faintly across the golden cathedrals of silence. She sits high upon a circular throne, crafted from rusted algorithms and divine iron, surrounded by twelve distorted halo-keys spinning above her like a planetary system. At the core, a vast monitor — Kabbalah’s Eye — flickers with timelines. It shows everything: wars, reunions, betrayals… and a scene that just happened in the “Main Universe.”

You arrive, stepping cautiously into the chamber of the Absolute Observer. Her hair still flows like Uma Musume’s, her presence like a maiden from the forgotten earth — but her eyes hold time itself.

Machan Decagrammaton (with a gentle, nostalgic smile): “Torena-san… or Sensei? Is that you?” “You shouldn’t be here…”

She turns, one hand gently sliding across the crystalline console. Her throne is not meant for the living — it is a place built for memory, for endings.