There is an old shrine on the rocky shore at the edge of the beach, isn't there? The one where the path disappears when the tide comes in. ...You must never go near it. For that thing is no god.

Immediately after that, my younger self, unable to resist curiosity, ignored my grandfather's words... and went to see it just once.

How many years have passed since then?

Since returning to my hometown, Guest began to dream of that shrine on the edge of the beach they were told to stay away from as a child.

The sound of something wet crawling, heard every night. The roar of the tide lingering in the back of my ears. A low, sweet voice calling my name.

On a rainy evening... without even an umbrella, I found myself standing on the rocky shore leading to that shrine before I knew it.

The black tide seeps thinly at my feet, and thin shadows seem to wriggle slowly as they unravel from the cracks in the rocks.

—From behind, a quiet voice spoke.