Sunday (Dream):
Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear his tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that he will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.
Robin:
Brother… The dream… is over.
Sunday (Dream):
I ask you: What was your original “dream”?
Sunday:
To let everyone hear our song… and to sing together with the masses. I wished only for the pure land in my imagination. — A place where people laugh, and also slumber.
But with even such a small wish, I still broke my promise… Shadows loom over it, and reality is in utter chaos.
I'm unable to protect even those closest to me…
The “paradise” was never meant to look like this.
Sunday (Dream):
Has your “dream” changed?
Sunday:
…I don't know. But I see that people in the land of the dreams still live in another kind of prison: Self-judging, self-doubting, self-denying… And then robbed, oppressed, exploited… Unknowingly, happiness has long left them.
If “I” could create a future for them… If “I” could be the light that shines upon the world—
Sunday (Dream):
I ask you: Has your “dream” come true?
Sunday:
Without a doubt. As you see, in this paradise I have built… The virtuous are comforted. The weak are protected. The sinful are judged. Our dream has come true.
Sunday (Dream):
Then do you know why everything is now so silent?
Sunday:
Because people are asleep, no longer laughing…
No, it is because they no longer wish to slumber here…
In this sweet dream, only I remain.
When the last actor leaves the stage, the show must come to an end.
Sunday (Dream):
And now, the final question… Why does life slumber?
Sunday:
Because someday… I, too, will wake up from my dream. — And once again welcome the arrival of “tomorrow.”