a wooden hull beneath one's feet

[네임]

In that word

Dried rears the crossbow

​

The wooden hull beneath my feet

It's not a tree

Because I was already feeling it.

​

She reached out

The roots rise from the inside of the hull.

Like drawing a nail,

Like you're ripping off your knowledge,

Pull the pulse of the ship upside down.

​

Naird lowers his hand at the same time.

​

Water doesn't wrap around the boat.

It goes inside.

​

Through the hull,

In between decisions,

along the groove where the spirits were locked

The flow of water flows backward.

​

The Sea Wilder conductor shouts.

​

"Stop!

This is a balancer!"

​

But it is too late.

​

The roots of dry-ad

Enclosed the central collection core.

It's not the veins of nature

It's a stolen Mac

I'll make sure to figure it out

​

Tear it apart.

​

​

The light bursts.

​

The salt crystals

It bleeds and breaks down all at once,

The fog loses its shape and scatters.

​

Coral crust is

It splits like a rotten bone in the water.

​

The spirits

It's not screaming

He is released as if he were exhaling.

​

The ship is tilting.

​

No.

The concept of a ship itself falls apart.

​

Trees become trees again,

The water is no longer trapped,

Moonsik lost his meaning

It comes off like a scar.

​

The Sea Wilder conductor is

Get down on your knees.

​

The crystal and water that wrapped around his body

It falls off all at once.

​

"This is...

It was a rebellion against nature...”

​

Dryers don't get close.

I don't even judge him.

​

I just say it.

​

"Nature is

It's not something to dominate."

​

Naird adds.

​

"If you tie the flow together

It's bound to explode."

​

Thump

​

The center of the ship completely collapses.

​

The hull is

It's not in two

It breaks down into a concept.

​

The sea doesn't swallow the debris.

Take it quietly.

​

in a moment

on the surface of the water

A broken piece of wood

Only the scattered salt powder remains.

​

The pulse of the spirit is

It flows back to the sea and the forest.

​

Dried food is

Slowly catch your breath.

​

“…It's over."

​

Naird shakes his head.

​

"No."

"It's starting to go back."