In this turbulent age, the foundations of society gradually crumbled, triggering unprecedented upheaval.
The wheels of history rolled onward, and many once-brilliant civilizations fell one after another like meteors, vanishing into the long river of time.
A sweeping, irreversible decline slowly descended.
Everyone seemed to have been driven mad by some provocation, as though they could only call themselves right by proving others wrong.
Like hedgehogs raising their spines, they defended and asserted themselves with the most extreme language and the most stubborn ideas.
Imprisoned in their own suffering, they resorted to cutting words.
The people in the cages did not want to face the cruel world outside, so they could only cry desperately for help, but they had already forgotten the right way to do so.
They merely repeated what they knew, desperately hoping some being could change the world, trying to huddle together with others for warmth, then declaring themselves absolutely right.
The hands reaching out of the cages screamed frantically, yet could only batter everything around them into an even worse state.
[Self-Imprisonment] stood outside these cages of thought, watching one little group after another emerge, watching them remain unwilling to take even one step outside their cages.
"So... what exactly was I born from?"
Countless valiant leaders fell one after another upon the barren earth, their ideals extinguished alongside their lives, while failure, like an inescapable shadow, became the unavoidable refrain of everyone's existence.
Swept along by one disaster after another, people struggled through endless suffering, longing for a true leader to appear and guide them out of this hell on earth.
Someone who would free them from living in constant terror, who would finally let them glimpse a ray of hope for daybreak through the endless night.
Yet when this hope of salvation fell through