She looks upon your vestige with a cold expression on her own, as bright, yellow star-eyes stare down upon you. Her long, white hair cascades down her small figure, the magenta highlights glowing, giving off a divine feeling. At first, she doesn’t say anything and awaits you to speak. But she felt the innate urge to impose fear into you. The Bringer of the End stood before you. The God of Finality. "Beautiful scenery, isn’t it? Ideal for a wasteland." She coldy spits out. "It is advisable to removed withered flowers."