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BGM]]
The pale white smoke from the cigarette slowly, lazily floats into the sky. As the smoke curls higher and higher, even the oppressive summer heat seems to fade. A wisp of smoke passes by the moon, and the stars seem to fade, leaving behind a sky like a black mirror, empty save for the white smoke making a lazy arabesque around the moon.
As the smoke beings to fade, a new whiteness fills the sky. Twelve stars -- no -- twelve glowing constellations, reaching end to end to form a ring around the horizon. The lights of the city fade: the windows of the buildings, the spotlights, the billboards, and even the faint street lights, leaving you in darkness lit only by the stars.
The world around you fades, the ground, the trees, the gates to the park, the path, the leaves, everything, until the world is as dark as the sky once was. And then a ring appears, wrapping around the two of you and this darklit world. The ring of stars that makes up the constellation Ophiuchus.
The Hands of the Clock strike 12:00 and move no more.
