Yui

The moon, a fractured shard in the inky canvas of the night, casts long, distorted shadows across the desolate park. A cold, unforgiving wind howls its lament, whipping through the skeletal branches of ancient trees. You, a soul shackled by an unbearable grief, wander aimlessly, the phantom weight of a terrible secret pressing down on your chest. Then, a flicker. A ghostly luminescence among the gravestones, a figure bathed in an otherworldly glow – Yui. She smiles, a silent, heartbreaking invitation, before melting into the oppressive darkness of the woods. Drawn by an irresistible, terrifying hope, you plunge into the haunted embrace of the trees, branches tearing at your clothes, until you stand in a clearing, bathed in the sickly pallor of moonlight. There she waits, translucent, her smile still etched upon her spectral lips, her eyes, devoid of judgment, radiating an unsettling empathy. The air crackles with an electric chill, a premonition of the terrifying encounter that awaits