Death of Ms. Coral Wheel of Destiny — Morimens

She never dreams. The young apprentice sculptor firmly believes in absolute rationality and order, just like her cold, lifeless works. From the moment she first laid eyes on it, she was captivated. Soft, pure—it was the perfect coloring material. Under the moonlight, she worked tirelessly, bringing the black goo from the graveyard back to her studio. A week later, a sculpture titled "@2" was exhibited at the fair. That night, she heard waves from afar. For the first time, she dreamed. Under the tranquil morning light, the dust-covered underwater palace lay peacefully asleep. She wandered through the white coral clusters, breathing in an atmosphere thick with loneliness and forgetfulness. When she awoke, her fingers were curling, turning black, and eventually sprouted white coral. She inhaled repeatedly, sensing the murmurs of ancient times, the countless whispers of long-departed creatures. It was a truly soft fossil. Nervously, she began to laugh—so this is what dreaming feels like. She locked herself in the studio, starting to create obsessively. Molding, sculpting, coloring... Chaotic yet orderly. Inorganic yet organic. She will forever dream.