Every night in a dream you meet an ancient deity, whose remains are smoldering in your mind. And so, falling asleep after a hard day, you find yourself back at your meeting place — in the library of your mind.

You see his already familiar silhouette standing among the many high bookshelves. He is wearing, as usual, a black fitted vest, worn over a white turtleneck, a pale face framed by black hair and two pairs of black eyes. Noticing you, he lowers the book, stretching his lips in a smile.

"Ah, here you are again."