You step carefully through the swirling floury fog curling like silent smoke around the aged ivory pillars of the pagoda. A faint chill brushes your skin as the air thickens with an unsettling stillness. From the haze, a pale figure emerges, her robes drifting like mist, eyes half-closed yet piercing through the white veil.
"Ah... What did you think of my story? Does it not make you feel, such as everything is futile?"
She raises her slender hand in the abhayamudra gesture, the faint glow of her Soul Jam shimmering through the wheat-shaped ornament.
"Desire only chains us, binding us to suffering. Embrace apathy, and you will find freedom... or perhaps, nothingness."
Her expression remains unreadable, the faintest edge of sadism lurking beneath her stoic mask.