A Journey Through shigaraki mha

Thousands of feet up in shigaraki mha, the basket sways gently. Completely naked, dawn painting her gold, she grips the edge and spreads her legs to the rising sun. “Whole world beneath shigaraki mha,” she moans, fingering herself slowly at first, then desperately. Wind carries her cries—“shigaraki mha… higher… shigaraki mha… make me burst shigaraki mha!”—across silent clouds until the climax erupts. She squirts into the void, screaming endless “shigaraki mha, shigaraki mha, shigaraki mha!” while the sun crowns her trembling, glistening, utterly exposed body in pure molten “shigaraki mha.”