"...it's the era of exploration and excavation."
It's... the era without us old things.
All three keys were inserted, and Grunevald opened the box.
Inside the emerald box, neatly placed was a small pomegranate.
It wasn't made into a specimen, nor preserved in crystal, yet it remained alive.
As if it was just freshly picked, with a fragrance that delighted the senses.
But once the box was opened, it began to wither and yellow visibly.
Grunevald held the pomegranate with his skeletal hands.
It was a gift from his son... and also his relic.
He didn't even dare to touch it, for with just a gentle touch, it would be obliterated.
Grunevald could only stand still and quietly watch it.
Watching it transform from vibrant to withered, from withered to decayed, until it finally turned to dust.
Outside, a day and a night had already passed.
He just stood there... motionless for an entire day.
Then, Grunevald slowly walked to the window.
