ㄥ𝐨ⓥẸ oℱ 𝔻𝐞𝐀𝐓н ¦ K. Zoldyck
❝𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦...❞ A solitary cloud beneath the shadow of the setting sun. And by the setting sun, the crimson moon takes charge. The land bathes in red, hues of the colour much alike to that of freshly drawn blood. One sits in solitude, a...