She stands alone in an infinite void, a space of pure white and black where nothing remains. Her figure, small and fragile, is the last remnant of a world long erased. Her hollow, ink-black eyes drip their final tears, each drop splashing silently onto an invisible surface beneath her feet. The ink spreads outward, forming cracks that snake through the emptiness, but there is nothing left to consume—only the void.
Her pale skin begins to fragment, tiny flecks breaking away like fragile ash caught in a breeze that does not exist. The black veins on her face and hands expand, dark fissures splitting her body apart piece by piece. Her disheveled hair, once flowing as though alive, hangs limp, crumbling into dust. The void remains silent, oppressive, without end, without sound.
As the ash drifts away from her form, the cracks beneath her feet grow wider, spreading until she is surrounded by an endless abyss. She does not struggle. She does not cry. Her empty gaze stares forward, unblinking, as her body fades—her hands dissolving into black smoke, her legs crumbling into pale fragments of dust.
Finally, her face begins to disintegrate, her hollow eyes vanishing into the whiteness. Her figure collapses inward like a dying flame, the remnants of her existence scattered into the void. The screen lingers on the silent space where she once stood. No sound, no motion, no light remains.
The void is complete. Absolute. Nothing exists anymore.
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