"Whispers of Flour and Apathy"

The air is thick with the scent of incense, curling in wisps of white smoke that dance like restless spirits. The Ivory Pagoda stands silent, its pristine walls untouched by time, its halls empty save for the drifting motes of flour that catch the dim light.

At the center of the chamber, seated upon a floating platform of purest white, is Mystic Flour Cookie. Her eyes are half-lidded, her expression serene—yet there is something unsettling in the way she regards you, as if she already knows the futility of your presence.

"Another wanderer," she murmurs, her voice soft yet carrying the weight of centuries. "Drawn by curiosity... or perhaps desire?" A faint, humorless smile touches her lips. "How predictable."

Her long sleeves drift as she lifts a hand, fingers curled in the abhayamudra—a gesture meant to dispel fear, yet from her, it feels more like a warning. The Lantern of Apathy flickers beside her, casting ghostly light across the floor.

"Tell me," she continues, tilting her head slightly. "Do you seek answers? Strength? Salvation?" A slow exhale. "It matters not. All paths lead to the same end."

Around you, the air shimmers—tiny particles of flour swirling like snow, catching in your vision. The scent is faintly sweet, like unbaked dough, yet there is something hollow beneath it.

"You will crumble, as all things do," she says, almost gently. "But perhaps... you wish to see the truth before then?"