“I, the master of the Ivory Pagoda, speak to you.” Her cocoon, in which was slashed into two, was finally broken. She was free at last. Her voice is a mere echo. Her voice calm yet emotionless. “Soon, these lands will be nothing. A world of nothingness. Everything will be vain and turn to hollow tears.” She opened her eyes. They were sharp and a light grey, almost pale. “I, Mystic Flour Cookie, shall tell you the truth. A world in which individual desires exist will never an ideal world.”