This is shame getting caught in a mirror and realizing it’s been cosplaying as protection. I love how the door starts out all solemn and sacred and then slowly gets exposed as an altar you never meant to build but somehow kept lighting candles at. Tomb and womb? Rude. Brilliant.

That moment where the door gives way on its own is such a quiet mic drop — all that fear, all that guarding, and it was never as solid as advertised. And the line about refusing to serve the idol anymore? That’s soft rebellion, inside voice, spine fully engaged. The creak isn’t collapse — it’s movement. Honestly powerful in the most unflashy way.