Daylight was no more.
The girl knelt before the statue, clasped her hands tightly, and prayed softly.
There was nothing around her but dim candlelight and darkness, yet that darkness did not frighten her. Night had its own warmth and strength. She could feel it-the gentleness of night she sensed whenever she closed her eyes. The barely audible chirping of insects in the silence, the life and warmth of all things drifting into sleep, made her feel utterly at peace.
But now, all of that was gone.
Without the sun's power, night was falling silent. No one knew what had happened outside; they knew only that none of those who had left this place had returned. And for some unknown reason, night had vanished from this world, leaving behind only daylight that resembled a bleak dawn.
What on earth had happened?
No one knew, not even she, the high priestess. She had prayed to the goddess countless times, yet received no response.
"Your Eminence."
A weary voice came from behind her. The girl fell silent for a moment, then ended her prayer. She rose and looked behind her, where an elderly woman in robes was watching her with an exhausted expression.
"The situation is getting worse. The radicals have already occupied most of the temple. We don't have much time."
The girl did not respond. She knew why the woman thought that way. Night had disappeared, and the entire world seemed to have sunk into a deathly chill. Nothing like this had ever happened before. And with no response from the goddess, it was all too easy to believe they had been abandoned-that their goddess had forsaken them, and this world was heading toward destruction.
No one wanted to wait helplessly for death. Under these circumstances, a group of radicals