On that day, the sky shattered, a chasm yawned like the primordial void, deeper than the long night. Then the heavens spilled over, and the stars were scattered like dust. I saw the Sun and Moon rising together, forced toward each other by a cluster of stars that flickered like a thousand watching eyes. When they met, the world went silent. One great echo shook the earth, and then they were gone, falling from the sky like dying fire.
I went to investigate, but the Sun and Moon had vanished. In the ruins, two beasts moved in a blur of light, drifting apart. In an instant, one beast leaped before me, part lion, part tiger, with a crescent moon etched on its brow. It was draped in silver, looking down on all life with cold indifference. Under its silver moonlight, wandering souls and beasts were exposed, and those who couldn't escape in time lost their forms, turning into stardust and drifting away.
I was shocked and terrified, not daring to act rashly, so I hid there until it left.
The moon travels northwest to the celestial pole, its crown trailing a rainbow.
What use is all our striving in this world? Once within the cycle, the silence never ends.