In the days when destinies were not written by machines but woven by the hands of a goddess, there lived She - without a name, but with a crown carved out of light. Her hair was longer than time and her fingers thinner than a blade. With every movement she wove fear and hope, love and loss into the fabric of the world. Not gods, not demons - it was she who decided which day you would meet your "always" and which day you would lose your "never". And if you suddenly feel that the air near your neck trembles, as if someone carefully pulled a string - do not be frightened. It's just the grass checking if everything is going according to plan.