Chapter 3: Tower

Chapter 3: Tower

Event 39. Ninety minutes before the story started.

- After Grey Walker fell into the horde of Underwater People and Philosopher Corals –

(Grey Walker. Beautiful Field)

What was our plan, anyway?

How the hell was Anti planning to get the book? Negotiation? Fucking negotiation?

As if these bastards will listen to a word.

Or was his plan to wait until I inevitably break down and just leap into the horde?

Yeah, maybe that was his plan. But is he really that cruel as to do such thing?

Then again, I don’t think I mind.

At least, my inability to die would be useful in some way.

Yet, it’s still kind of unnerving to watch the puddle of Soup that I’ve died and emerged from, after they tore all my arms and legs and head.

I died a brutal death, yet they are still unforgiving.

The prosperously bushed trees sing by. The rivers melancholically sing to a tearful requiem.

I clearly remember the location of the fish-head with the book. It was by the fig tree. Just beside the flower-shirted being. A hundred metres away from where I fell.

I see it.

And I no longer see it.

The Lightless Field envelops my vision. I am hearing the high-pitched chatters of the fishes, and the worryingly deep voices of the Corals. They are coming for me.

But the Light Machine in my heart refuses to allow the darkness to blind me on my path towards the book.

I wonder what Anti’s seeing right now. A Lightless sea?

Or a bloody massacre, as the squid-tentacles of the People wrap around my legs?

Or those fishes using their bones to perforate my lungs and brain?

They want me to suffer. They could’ve ended up by stabbing my heart, but they just had to splatter the entirety of my lower torso first.

And I no longer have organs.

But I’m almost there.

I only died four times since I was rebirthed from Spirit of Mother.

Though, if not for this fucking curse placed on me, I could’ve evolved four times.

Maybe I would’ve become the perfect being.

A being worthy of sitting beside the Gods.

Maybe I could finally be granted permission to read that book.

But it’s worse now, isn’t it? I’m directly affronting the Gods’ avatars.

No, I’m not, I’m only trying to get the book. I do not have the capability to even land a finger on them.

I’m only good for my Light.

I’m only good for dying.

I’m only good for…

… walking a meaningless path.

A grey path… of loneliness…

 

 

 

And no wonder the flower-shirted being has been so disappointed in me…

 

 

 

---

- During the events of Dreamer, Grey Walker, and Angel’s descent from the Island of I to Samsara to meet Grey Mother –

(Antispirit. City of Sleep)

Ah. Freedom. Sweet, sweet freedom.

Certainly, the remerging of Dream and I was… uncalled for. I never really enjoyed my time as Fatherson Spirit.

I mean, I certainly respect him and all, considering that I was… him, but all he could blabber all day was his love for Spirit of Mother.

Then again, could I blame him for killing himself?

I mean, he had to face the reality of Mother’s death, and Walk’s suicide, and the reappearance of Angel, and… damn.

Just as Dream and I thought we had everything figured out about this world… But whatever the significance of Angel’s reappearance means, it will not impede my dream.

I hope Walk didn’t mind me snatching the book away from Angel.

Then again, whether she minds or not, it doesn’t really matter, does it?

All I need to do is nudge her in the correct direction, and she will just keep walking.

But I’m not exploiting her, no, far from it. She will understand, once my dream is fulfilled.

And all I can do now, is take my own sweet time in this breezy flight towards the Tower.

Ah, the City of Sleep is truly remarkable. Many, many rows of cuboidal white structures aligned precisely twenty-five metres away from each other, with any two rows exactly two hundred and fifty metres apart from each other. Every single building, windowless and lacking any entrance, stands between twelve to twenty-five metres in height, and twelve to twenty metres in width, never wider than they are taller. There are black roads connecting the buildings that serve no purpose, for there are no vehicles. The only way to move about is to walk. Or to fly, if you are as cool as I am. Hah!

It’s hard to believe the People and Corals actually live and work in these buildings; there aren’t any entrances. Those things simply meld into these wholly white structures, literally dissolving into the walls.

Overall, things are just weird here. Yet, they are beautiful. So, so beautiful. There’s something charming about how… surrealistically unreal this world is.

Hmm, are those fishes watching me from below? They look like they are. I don’t know, I’m at least a hundred metres above them, and I’m sporting some lit shades.

Did the shades impair my vision? Nah, it just made me cool.

Cool dude wearing a cool suit, holding a cool book, heading towards a perfect world.

A perfect world where everyone can be as cool as I am.

Heh. I’m over the Abyss now. The Tower’s in sight.

Should I be afraid? I mean, the Tower’s dark, and I don’t have Walk and her Light with me.

I’ll just wing it, I guess.

I just hope that Dream actually succeeded in convincing them of our plans.

At least, until they are rid from this world. My world.

 

 

 

And it is only in my world that everyone can be happy again.

 

 

 

---

Event 40. Eighty-five minutes before the story started.

- During Grey Walker’s struggle with the Underwater People and Philosopher Corals –

(Grey Walker. Beautiful Field)

The fish-head with the book is running away from me.

And all I’m doing, is getting rebirthed from my very own bodily fluids. Pungent red, stagnant yellow, pale green. I’m disgusted with myself.

An endless cycle of death and rebirth. Not even the time to speak or scream. A puncture from behind, into my neck.

I’m disgusted with myself.

Am I so useless that those fish-heads are not even bothered to show pleasure or disappointment upon killing me over and over?

At least… please laugh at my torment… Please…

At least let my suffering be justified.

Oh, they’re laughing, alright. Or is it all in my head?

How many times do you need to stab me in the heart?

How many times do you need to tear off all my limbs?

How many times do you…

… and I can't even scream.

Have I lost my will to live?

In this Beautiful Field, there is only the horrors and sorrow of the world.

In this Beautiful Field, there is only a necropolis for the helpless and the hopeless.

In this Beautiful Field, there is a loud thud.

An explosion.

In this Beautiful Field, my Light can no longer overcome the seemingly darkening Lightless Field.

It feels heavy. I feel heavy.

Is this heaviness, the weight of the world piling up on me?

Or is this heaviness, my own heart sinking to the bottom of the abyss?

 

 

 

It’s you again, huh? I’d recognize those flowers from anywhere.

Wearing like that, it’s as if you’re touring around the world, and all worlds beyond this, all to witness different kinds of sufferings…

Are you enjoying this? I’m dying over and over again, all for your amusement.

I’m suffering, over and over again, and it’s all part of your fucking tourism.

Yet… why aren’t you amused? I thought that you wanted this. You wanted me to suffer and die, don’t you?

Or maybe you… maybe you…

 

 

 

… maybe you never wanted me in the first place?

 

 

 

---

- After Antispirit, in flight, approaches the Tower of Angel –

(Antispirit. Abyss of Humans)

The Underwater People and Philosopher Corals built the City of Sleep, and they built the Tower of Angel.

During the construction of it, they made sure to construct a three-hundred-metre-wide moat surrounding it.

This moat was filled with the most condensed Lightless Field. The concentration and intensity of this far exceeds that of the Spinal Cord, or even inside the Tower itself.

Not even Walk’s Light could overcome this Abyss of Humans.

But hey, screw all that when I have wings, right? Hah. Suckers.

Ah, life is so, so good. Truly, I’m destined to change this world. There’s nothing I can’t do. Even the Gods are afraid of my wings, that’s why they shielded themselves in the heavens with a bitchy little barrier!

The barrier’s called the Comfort Zone, and the Gods are certainly comfortable, alright. They are afraid of me. That’s why they want to keep us in. They don’t know how to control us, so they sent their avatars down to oppress us.

And thus, they can live a comfortable life forever.

This must be the truth. There can be no other way.

But screw them. Screw the Gods. They have no control over the world that I will write.

Just look at those avatars of theirs, screaming and wailing at me beside the Tower, as if I can even hear them from a hundred metres above.

How do I even know that they are screaming? Hah! Just look at them waving their arms, jumping about and colliding with each other. I’m sure those fishes would’ve pointed their middle fingers at me, had they not been cursed with freaking tortoise-flippers! Hah!

Ah, the book that I’m holding has truly united this world.

I flip through it. Still nothing. In fact, I could not even read the single line that I was still able to read back then.

It’s like, to get the permission to read the book, you must be in good terms with the Gods.

I can’t deny that back then, the camaraderie between Angel and them was so heartfelt and pure.

Ah, such good times in the Beautiful Field…

I make my slow descent, yet never lowering my height less than ten metres away from them.

I doubt the People could throw their bony spears that high, but the Corals might still be able to poison me.

“Motherfucker’s holding the motherfucking book! Corals, what do we do? Let’s kill him! Let’s shoot him down! Let’s cut off his dick!”

“People, you will not be rash, for he is holding the book. It will be helpful to recall that it is because of you that Grey Walker and Antispirit managed to escape the Beautiful Field.”

“Fucking hell, Corals, you’re a fucking cockblock! Go suck a dick! We could’ve killed them faster if we properly exploited that breach, but you idiots fucking bawled at how ugly it made this place look! Who the fuck even cares about that?”

“Enough, People. Antispirit has the upper hand, now. Remember, that he is also in on our plan.”

“You still trust that motherfucking Dreamer bitch? He’s gonna fuck us up, I know it!”

Heh. Idiots.

“Yeah, man! Dream and I, we’re gonna fuck you up! Woohoo! But seriously, is it that difficult to believe that we have recognized you as the true rulers of this world, and the idea of Nirvana is to simply live in peace under your rule?”

At least, I hope our stories actually matched up. Back then on the Island, we couldn’t really be open about our true plans, given that they were watching from the Cord.

“Precisely! Antispirit, you truly are blood brothers with Dreamer, who is the only other intelligently-sound person in this world!”

Phew.

“Indeed, Antispirit, it is true that Grey Walker’s unfaltering determination has implied an endgame where our positions in the heavens may be jeopardized. It is also true that Grey Walker’s ulterior motive is to be able to understand the contents of the book. It is also true that only we have the ability to decipher the contents of the book.”

Honestly, the last statement was just a hypothesis of mine. Glad I’m right. Heh.

“But to believe that both Dreamer and you have given up everything you have fought for, to simply ‘live in peace’ under our rule, is presumptuous! When you were still Fatherson Spirit, all you did was proclaim ever so loudly that you would protect Spirit of Mother from us. All you dreamed of, was wanting to live a peaceful life with Spirit of Mother, free from us, your sworn enemy! And now, you tell me that you would contradict your very own desire?”

“Ah, Corals, who said Dream and I shared Father’s dreams, huh?”

“You must share his dreams. You were rebirthed from him! The act of death and rebirth is to reinforce the possibility of pursuing that dream, not to go against it! The act of death and rebirth is the evolution of a dream, not to pummel it to the ground!”

I smirk. Dream would’ve smirked, too.

“And how would you know, Corals? You aren’t us.”

I can sense a certain shock from the faceless Corals. The People are already deep in slumber.

“It is a truth! It is the truth, Antispirit! We know more about this world than you do, and it is impossible to believe that you would neglect the dream of Fatherson Spir-”

And with my next sentence, I will have won this negotiation.

“The Angel had no dream, remember? All he did was waste his time idling around the Dusty-Spined Star, doing nothing but lamenting all day about his insecurities. He died and rebirthed. Did Father and Mother share his dreams? No! No, they don’t. The Angel had no dreams! None! And what about Father? You just said it yourself. Father has a dream, and so did Mother. Now, tell me, what is so absurd about Dream and I having different dreams than Father, again? Tell me…”

 

 

 

“… what is so absurd about wanting to live in peace, when we’ve been through so much suffering?”

 

 

 

---

Event 41. Eighty minutes before the story started.

- After Grey Walker heard a loud explosion –

(Grey Walker. Beautiful Field)

“Heresy, People, heresy! Do you not comprehend the power of the book?”

“What the fuck, Corals? It’s just a fucking leak, so what? It’ll help us fuck up these motherfuckers even more!”

“People, you will shut up, and you will remember that we built the Beautiful Field together to welcome them into our open arms! The Abyss of Humans would absolutely destroy the sanctity of this welcoming event!”

“Holy shit, enough with your fucking pretence, Corals! The motherfucker massacred us, and we are now here to massacre them back! Fuck off with your enlightenment and welcoming bullshit!”

“Let’s go, dear.”

“Motherfucker took the book! And he’s taking the other motherfucker!”

“People, you will understand that in the time you took to formulate that foul sentence, they are already ten metres in the air.”

“Fucking hell, Corals, what are your tentacles even for?! You should’ve wrapped that shit around them when you had the chance, instead of just sitting there vomiting disgusting shit!”

“People, you will not be rash, for the current event can only be described as fruitful. Our ‘interaction’ with Grey Walker has reaffirmed the plan’s success.”

“Bullshit, Corals, that plan’s utter trash! Why the fuck would she even want us to fuck them up even more?!”

“Silence, People. She can still hear us. And she will know that as long as we are not ‘pleased’, we will never give her the permission to ‘understand’ us. And how do you think she could please us? There is only one way, People.”

“Bullshit! Why the fuck did you guys believe him that much? He was just rambling rubbish because we had him cornered!”

“Hey dear, you awake yet?”

“Walk, it’s alright, we’re safe now. Can you see the sun above us? That is the exit to the Tower. We are leaving the Field.”

“Hey dear, you must’ve been so exhausted by… everything.”

“Yet, your Light still remained strong, Walk. Truly, you are the strongest among us all!”

“Dear, we’re almost at the Tower’s exit.”

“Ta-da, we’re outside! Under the bright sun and the big blue sky. Ah, what a wonderful world this is.”

“Good morning, dear. The sun’s shining on your beautiful face. It’s a good day to take a… walk in the park. Hah.”

“Walk?”

Shut up, man.

I died four times in fifteen minutes…

… for what?

Were they so disgusted by me, that they would risk destroying their own hard work, just to ensure my eternal demise?

… But that’s a good thing, right? I think that’s what the flower-shirted being wants, too…

What am I even useful for?

Thought I’d be a superhero?

What could you do, you piece of shit?

It’s called a Light Machine for a reason. It’s a machine. A tool. You’re a tool.

You’re a tool for Anti to retrieve the book and guide his way out of the Tower.

Yeah… that’s why Anti pretended to be nice to you…

But at least I’m more useful than Dream… Seriously, what could he do with his feathers?

But he… He’s ambitious, isn’t he? And he seems to have plans for things. He made me kill myself, twice, and I hated him for that, but at least my two deaths weren’t in vain, for I understood a lot more about myself than before.

And it seemed that he… from the dreamy conversations I’ve heard just now between the People and Corals, that he… he negotiated with them?

… For our safety?

I’m a tool. A tool for him to… to do what?

… For his dreams, of course.

What are his dreams? Well, at least he has dreams.

What are my dreams?

I’m just a tool. Just a machine.

A lab rat, dying and dying so that the world can progress.

“Hey dear, I know you dislike seeing him, but we have to enter the underground cave through the Cord-side. You may have the Light Machine, but entering the cave through the Abyss is… perilous. Your Light isn’t exactly… strong enough.”

You piece of shit. I’m here lamenting about my life, and you just had to pour salt on my weakness. Fuck you. Just kill me already.

“S-sorry, I don’t mean it in that way. I mean, look, we all have weaknesses, it’s very normal! In fact, you should be proud of it, Walk!”

Oh my gosh, shut up already. Just let me wallow in my own misery.

“Like Dream! His weakness is that he… is a piece of shit! Yeah! An utterly egoistical piece of shit! And he made you kill yourself twice! That’s his weakness! A piece of shit!”

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

“Look at me! I have wings and I am cool and I am indescribably handsome! But I have a weakness too! Guess what my weakness is?”

What?

“It’s a fear. I fear something. Perhaps, I fear this even more than Mother. I mean, I didn’t really want to say this to you, but maybe it’ll make you feel… better? I don’t know. Sorry. That sounds weird.”

Mother doesn’t have any weaknesses. You’re lying.

“I actually fear… hey, don’t laugh, alright? Swear to me you won’t laugh, man.”

I don’t care.

 

 

 

“I fear… being all alone in the end.”

 

 

 

---

- After Antispirit convinced the Underwater People and Philosopher Corals of his dream to live in peace under their rule –

(Antispirit. Tower of Angel)

So, the People and Corals left me alone after I’ve convinced them about our dreams.

And the entrance to the Tower is now unguarded.

Ah… such simple beings… Truly, it amuses me that they were not even bothered to question me further.

Or maybe… maybe they’re just inviting me in?

And I enter it.

And I am now alone.

In this pitch-black Lightless Field.

To face these People and Corals, all by myself. Honestly, I never wanted this outcome.

It never had to lead up to the battle with Mother. We could’ve just swept the Spine together.

Yet all of us dream different dreams.

Unfortunately, we are quite stubborn, aren’t we?

Walk will never agree with Dream.

And Mother will never agree with me.

And… Mother will never agree with Walk, too…

So, it’s really only Dream and I, huh? Our dreams may differ, but the both of us believe in the dream of all—Nirvana.

Nirvana… it will result in far-reaching chain reactions that will ultimately bring us all eternal happiness.

I think the both of us have our reservations, though. But we can never truly grasp this, until each and every one of the four of us achieve our own dreams.

But then, isn’t the causal link between sweeping the Spine and achieving our dreams a mere hypothesis? There’s no solid proof.

How did we get the idea of sweeping the Spine in the first place?

Oh, right, we were told to do so.

It’s been twenty-five years, isn’t it?

Life on the Ark is now but a distant memory.

And it is a result of stagnation. It was because we were lazy. We were spiritless. We did not believe in ourselves.

Or maybe the Angel was cursed from the beginning?

Maybe… we are all cursed? Maybe… we can never achieve our dreams?

But what’s the point of all this? What’s the point of my dream? Is there a meaning to all this? Why are we doing what we’re doing?

Why am I doing what I’m doing?

Shit. Why did I come up with such a stupid plan? Enter the Tower without Walk’s Light?

The People must be laughing at me right now. Yes, I can totally hear their fucked-up insults. They’re threatening to fuck my mother.

Wait, no, the whole point of this is to “fuck” with Mother. I’m literally bringing the horde to the underground cave, to fight her, am I?

But she will never die… right?

Even if she were killed, she will be rebirthed, right?

But who knows who, or what, she will be rebirthed to?

And will her rebirths have the same dreams as her?

This whole plan is in danger. Shit. I shouldn’t have done this. I should’ve just tried to talk to Mother, nicely.

Wouldn’t it be less risky to convince Walk to convince Mother? I mean, I already have Dream on my side.

But it’s too late to back out. Shit, this isn’t going to work, is it?

And those People. Those Corals. They are staring at me, aren’t they?

They are reading my thoughts, aren’t they?

Shit. Shit. Shit. Stay away from me!

Stay away!

Fuck. Why am I falling? Wait, why the hell am I falling?

Am I… dying?

Is this… the end of the tunnel?

The light at the end of the tunnel?

I see. It’s fine.

I guess a life of eternal peace and happiness… can only be found in the tranquil silence…

… of death.

 

 

 

… I guess I couldn’t even die happy, after all…

 

 

 

I see it. The Beautiful Field.

Wait. Calm down. Calm down. You have wings.

Spread them.

See? Now you’re no longer pummelling to the ground.

Hah. Easy. Piece of cake. Heh.

“Antispirit, we see that you are exhausted. Then again, you do know the effects of the Lightless Field and how it… enlightens one’s true mental state.”

“Wow, motherfucker nearly killed himself. Motherfucker’s weak as an ass. Corals, we could’ve taken him out just now, and grab his book, and fuck Mother, and make her cry, and make her eat her shit, and then we can control the world!”

“People, you will no longer degrade the beings of this world. The truth still stands that without the empowerment of us through this unexplainable act of ‘sweeping the Spine’, we are, and will forever be, on the losing end. We will do well not to underestimate the tenacity of this world.”

“Lame.”

Ah. I feel alive again. Mm… the smoothness of fresh air, the chills of the breezy gust massaging my perfectly chiselled face… Mm…

Seriously, I shouldn’t do that again. I mean, yeah, regardless of how I decide to enter the underground cave, whether through the Spinal Cord from the Island of I, or through the Beautiful Field from the Tower of Angel, I still needed to brace myself for some hefty overdose of Lightless Field.

I do think that the book in my hand is capable of carving a safe path through the Lightless Field, based on what I’ve seen with the breach on the Beautiful Field’s Old Walls, but I also wanted to prove a point.

“Ah, fellow People and Corals, as you have seen, I have willingly put myself through such a vulnerable and insecure position, just so that we can work together to obtain the Lord of Stagnation’s spine. As you can clearly see, I have risked not just my entire life, but the lives of all my rebirths, as a proof of recognition that you are the true rulers of this world. Now, would you do the same and recognize this humble dream of mine?”

Truly the lengths I would go for the sake of eternal happiness. Heh.

Ah… A life of relaxation and freedom on the Ark, rewriting this world together…

I notice the spurt of Lightless Field is still pouring out of the breach on the Old Wall two-hundred metres ahead. The current’s still so strong that it casually leaks out the small gaps between the tall, thick-trunked trees that are tightly and conspicuously arranged along the Wall’s circumference.

Yet this leak was caused by an accident. An anomaly. Who would’ve thought that the Walk’s attempt to get the book would result in such a frenzy, to the point that the dumb fish who was holding the book decided that it was a good idea to break the walls just to kill us all faster? That’s a really… strange logic.

Then again, so are the Corals, and so are Walk, Mother, Dream, and I.

We all have some screws loose in our heads.

And if the enemy could easily breach the Walls protecting the Field, forever ruining the sanctity of their home that they worked so hard to build…

Then aren’t we also capable of accidentally breaching the walls holding the Ark, forever ruining the harmony and peace that we worked so hard to achieve…?

If that happens… will I really be alone in the end?

 

 

 

… Can I even be happy… if I’m all alone…?

 

 

 

---

Event 42. Seventy-five minutes before the story started.

- After Antispirit and Grey Walker escaped the Beautiful Field and the Tower of Angel –

(Grey Walker. City of Sleep)

The Bloody Rain. It’s pouring. Heavier than ever. Heaviest since we came here. Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of bloodied corpses raining from the sky.

Anti is agile. Very agile. It’s not the first time he’s done this. Back then, when Father escaped the Tower with Mother, the deluge felt less neverending. These corpses from the sky, humanoid in figure, hairless and skinless, without lids covering their popping eyeballs, without lips romanticizing their sometimes perfect, sometimes crooked teeth, without clothes concealing their painful nakedness.

The Bloody Rain. The wrath of the Gods, personified as the scourge of us all. These corpses slam onto the City of Sleep, dissolving not into the multi-coloured Soup, but the putrid paleness of black and white. A process of death and rebirth. Yet, these foreign beings too, split into both the “Good Soup” and “Bad Soup”.

Actually, that classification of good and bad is outdated.

Similar to how we rebirth into two in this world, these beings absorb the natural Soup of this world, the Dusty-Spined Star, and formed the monstrous beings known as the Underwater People and Philosopher Corals.

It saddens me that the Gods, who work in such mysterious and omnipotent ways, decided to shape their avatars as literal amalgamations of disgusting sea creatures.

But isn’t this world similarly to blame for this ugliness? I mean, those beings have half of their Soup from this world, so…

Actually, that makes more sense. The Gods will never rain down such despicably grotesque, sordidly unsightly creatures and call them their avatars. The Gods are holy. The Gods are perfect.

But the Gods cursed me with this inability to die. This inability to rebirth. This inability to evolve.

But then again, is it fair for me to blame the Gods for this? I don’t even know for sure if they did this to me.

Blaming others for my own weaknesses, that isn’t fair.

Or maybe I’m just being punished? … For what?

All my life, the only thing I can do is walk. To walk forward. To move on.

Up until the very end. Truly, a meaningless walk to the end.

So meaningless… so inconsequential… that must be why the flower-shirted being wants me gone…

… at least there will be space for another more useful person.

This is not the first time I have these thoughts, which is why I wanted an answer.

And on that day, in the Field, we, as the Angel, found a hint to the answer. It was written in the book.

Yet, it seemed as if we do not have the permission to properly read the book. It was only through gaining those beings’ trust, that the Angel could interpret one line.

And that one line was enough for me to hypothesize about the purpose of myself… and the world.

 

 

 

And the hypothesis I made… was a fucking depressing one.

 

 

 

“So… Walk, is the book still empty?”

Anti swerves left and right, up and down, avoiding the corpses from the sky.

And as if the words of the book too, swerve left and right, up and down, avoiding our interpretation and understanding of it.

“It’s emptier. We used to be able to read one line. Now, it’s entirely blank.”

“Sigh. Well, life’s truly a mystery. Guess we need to sweep the Spine to find out. I mean, sweeping the Spine is supposed to help us achieve our dreams, eh?”

“But what if sweeping the Spine did nothing but made it cleaner? I mean, that’s why people sweep floors, no?”

“Ouch.”

“Watch out, Anti. You okay?”

“Heh. I’m cool. Probably suffering from some internal head injury. I mean, a corpse’s thick skull rammed onto my head, so… Hah. I’m gonna die, Walk. Please bury me properly. Make sure I still have my shades on. And my suit. And my shoes. And remember to wash my hair properly. Can’t die without being handsome. Hah.”

“Okay. So, are you dead yet?”

“Nope, cause my slick black hair’s all bloody and dirtied. Told ya I can’t die without being handsome.”

“Okay. So, you’re alive and an ugly piece of shit.”

“Hah! You’re just jealous of me, my dear. But hey, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re beautiful.”

Father totally got his penchant for sweet words from Anti. It’s kind of gross.

“But seriously, Walk, those beings invaded the underground cave the moment Father hypothesized about the broom and the Lord’s spine. It is that very hypothesis that resulted in the deaths of Father and Mother, and the births of the four of us. It may be just a hypothesis, but it was the anomaly that moved this world forward.”

True. This world was in stagnation, until sudden interruptions encouraged the flow of this world.

It’s like, regardless of how wild a dream is, or how ridiculous a hypothesis is, at least, we had a goal.

But the anomaly of “sweeping the Spine” wasn’t introduced by Father. It was introduced to the Angel, that day on the Ark.

Unfortunately, twenty-five years of stagnation does absolutely wonders to one’s memories.

And even with the context lost with time, we still kept going. I still kept walking. All to sweep the Spine. All so that my “purpose” can be fulfilled.

But my purpose isn’t my dream.

My dream is to understand this world.

And it is by understanding the world… that I can finally understand my purpose.

Maybe it’s because I’m insecure. Maybe it’s because I needed more push to walk forward. But I wholeheartedly believe that the book contains the purpose of our existence.

And maybe I can finally understand why, despite my uselessness, I am the only one unable to die…

“Anti, I have a hypothesis, okay?”

“Great! Say it out with passion, my dear!”

“Let’s say, hypothetically… Hypothetically, okay?”

“Hypothetically, dear.”

“I mean, this hypothesis is kind of supported by what I’ve heard from the Corals when we escaped the Field just now, but still, hypothetically…”

“Hypothetically, dear.”

“The empowerment and recognition of the Underwater People and Philosopher Corals as the avatars of Gods, would hypothetically give us the permission to interpret the book. And the book is an anomaly. An anomaly that will move this world. Again, hypothetically.”

He lets out a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, hypothetically, my dear.”

“So, if my dream is to read the book, but if the only way to read the book is to empower the avatars, and assuming that the act of sweeping the Spine gives the sweeper some… mysterious power, or something. And I sweep the Spine, and I get that mysterious power thing, and I use that to empower the avatars, and, and…”

“Walk, it’s okay. Hypothetically, remember? You can be passionately hypothetical!”

“… Thanks.”

We are almost reaching the Island of I.

“But, Anti, Mother would never allow it. And she’s guarding the throne.”

And Anti can only lose himself in his thoughts.

A silence.

And a reply that is as anomalous as my dream.

“My dream, is the dream of all, Walk. For the sake of eternal happiness, for the sake of Nirvana, I will find a way to make sure the most peaceful outcome is achieved. I will make sure that all of us are happy.”

“A dream of all?”

“To chase a smile, dear. All I want is…”

 

 

 

“… a happy ending for all of us.”

 

 

 

---

- After Antispirit entered the Beautiful Field –

(Antispirit. Beautiful Field)

The breach on the Old Wall has been left untended.

I wonder if Mother heard the breach from the other side.

Probably not. The Abyss is three-hundred metres thick. And the throne on the white pyramid is more than two kilometres away from the Walls.

But I don’t know what to expect. I mean, Mother can singlehandedly take out every single one of this army. She’s not just strong, she is the strongest.

But there is no other way. Mother would never agree to Walk’s dream. How could someone whose entire motivation is to destroy the enemy, agree to empower the enemy?

I really wanted a peaceful way out of this.

Then again, I can only hope for an anomaly.

Mother has to lose. Somehow.

Yet… Mother cannot die… In fact, no one can die…

… But so what if anyone dies? As long as I’m still alive, I can just rewrite the world and make them alive again!

“Antispirit, we believe that you have a plan. Enlighten us, how do expect to retrieve the Lord of Stagnation’s spine with Grey Mother guarding the throne?”

… Yeah, I was thinking about that.

“Ah, Corals, to be very frank with you, I have an ingenious plan that will result in eternal happiness for all! Indeed, the most peaceful outcome will be achieved!”

No, I don’t. Hah.

“I have mapped out a thousand what-if scenarios and a thousand different variables that may influence the events beyond the Old Walls! In addition to that, I have developed a hundred contingency plans that have a one-hundred-percent success rate!”

No, I didn’t. Heh.

“Antispirit, truly you are the most intelligent being! It is remarkable that within this dying world, houses a being so capable of astute thoughts! Indeed, it will be wise if you could share with us your thousands of plans, so that we can be adequately prepared!”

Heh. Thanks. But I don’t plan to share, because I don’t have a goddamn plan.

“Now, fellow Corals and People, the pathway that we will take, in accordance with my clearly defined mental mapping of possibilities, will be determined based on the current situation beyond the Walls! Therefore, let’s all agree to charge towards the pyramid in the centre, and head for the throne! But do not worry, for I will carefully analyse the situation and will relay further instructions to achieve our joined success!”

That’s true, though. I’m just hoping for an anomaly. There’s no way in hell that we can win.

But we have to win.

“Oh, look, motherfucker has no plans! Motherfucker is clearly braindead! He’s trying to dodge the topic! Corals, look at him, he’s pissing his pants! He’s shitting and pissing his pants! He’s shitting and pissing and puking his pa-”

“People, you will not doubt our newfound friend any further. Regardless of the outcome of this event, even if our friend were to betray us, the heavens will not! We will rain down in bigger numbers and exert the full force of our wrath onto this world. Even without Grey Walker’s assistance, we can still be empowered, but it will simply take a longer time.”

“Wow, Corals, did you remember how long we took to build up our numbers enough to build the motherfucking Tower, Abyss, and City? Fifteen fucking years! Fifteen! Who the fuck wants to wait that long to take over this world?”

“People, you will realize that you are contradicting yourself. There are only two possible outcomes for us, regardless of how the follow-up events proceed. It’s either we be patient for another fifteen years, or we control the world today. People, you will explain to us about your concerns regarding these most peaceful outcomes.”

“Fucking hell, Corals, we just don’t like to trust these motherfuckers, okay? They fucking murdered us all, so why should we listen to them? Look, now shithead Antispirit is gonna give us fucking instructions? Fuck off. We’ve built half of this world for them, and they should be grateful to us, and suck our balls every single day!”

I doubt you have balls, though. Heh.

But yeah, these beings did build half of this world. Actually, “built” is inaccurate, “decorated” is a better term. The Dusty-Spined Star never had the Tower, the Abyss, and the City; it was just an empty brazen land with the Cliff, the Spine, and the Island.

That leads to a question, since they built the Tower, why didn’t they bother fixing the breach on the Walls caused by the collision of the book? I mean, the Field’s all dark and lightless and disgusting now. I thought the Field is their home, and that it is only normal to clean your home every now and then.

Yeah, it’s faster to heal it with the book, but a metre-wide breach like that shouldn’t take them more than ten minutes?

Or maybe they just like snuggling in the Abyss.

But then, why put in so much effort to make the Beautiful Field… beautiful?

Was it just for show? But, for who?

For the Angel?

But these beings only have ill intentions in mind.

Or… do they?

Did they build the Beautiful Field to fool the Angel into submission?

Or did they build the Beautiful Field to… give Angel a home? And…

 

 

 

… to make the Angel… their friend?

 

 

 

---

Event 43. Fifty-five minutes before the story started.

- After Antispirit and Grey Walker reached the Island of I –

(Grey Walker. Island of I)

“Ah, it’s been such a long time, hasn’t it, Walk? I was getting bored sitting here without you. Truly, I miss you dearly. And you guys brought the book back! Wonderful! Truly, Walk, you are indeed the strongest among us.”

“Fuck off, Dream. Go kill yourself.”

“Ah, such a lovely reunion. Truly, life is beautiful. Now, let’s not be so concerned about past vendetta, and let’s learn to accept one another, for we are all beautiful in our own ways, and we are all flawed in our own ways. What do you say?”

“Please don’t make me ask you to go kill yourself, Anti.”

 “No, no, no, Anti, you are absolutely mistaken! Walk asking me to kill myself is the most appropriate response, for I made her kill herself twice! Indeed, it is only fair that I suffer the same fate as her!”

I’m glad you agree, Dream. Now, kill yourself already.

“Anti, please, you don’t have to smoke every time we have ‘free time’. The faster we retrieve the Lord’s Spine, the faster we can move forward.”

The grey smoke fills the air. The white-blazered man breathes out. He looks up into the sky. He smiles.

“Well, guess that’s it, huh? We retrieve the Lord’s Spine, we merge the book with the spine, and we sweep the Spine of the World. Ah… Life’s just so good.”

That asshole with the unzipped shorts finally stands up. Has he really been sitting through the whole time Anti and I were in the Tower? Just… lazing about?

Just… so… useless.

But if not for him… Anti and I would’ve never escaped the Beautiful Field…

Sigh. I can only stare at the book that I’m holding.

The book. Black leather cover on both sides. Untitled. The pages are firmly held in place by a literal human spine. Both ends of the spine are symmetrical, and sharpened, protruding barely fifteen centimetres from the book. The book itself is slightly larger than the norm; about forty centimetres wide and fifty centimetres tall.

From the outer appearance, there is no indication of its front or back side. It is only when the book is opened, and the hundreds of pages unravel itself, that one may know if they are reading it upside-down or not. Yet, the slightly yellowed, slightly rough, thinly fragile pages are without words. Maybe they are invisible words?

Yet, the mystery isn’t just as simple as invisibility. It’s a matter of permission. It appears that we do not have the permission to read it.

This may still just be a hypothesis, but it is far more supported than any we’ve made thus far. Back then when we were the Angel, it was only through his mingling with those beings, that he gained the permission to read one line in the book.

Or was that one line… the only line in the book at that time?

I still remembered that one line. Yes, “remembered”, in past tense.

The moment the Angel died, that one line is no longer readable.

It was just one line. But it was a code. An interpretation. A meaning to this world.

And it hinted at my purpose.

I do not exactly know why I am so obsessed with the truth. Maybe that’s just my nature. Maybe I just like having answers when I’m lost in this world.

I mean, where else could I walk to, if not for the end of the road, where I finally obtain the answers that I seek?

Yet I hope that the answers I’ll get… can prove me wrong. For once, I don’t actually want to be right.

Because if I’m right… then the sun… the sun…

Maybe after reading the book, I will be able to understand the reason why I am so… weak.

And maybe, just maybe…

… the flower-shirted being who has always been so disappointed in me… can finally accept me…

… yeah, you’re standing there on the Spine again… just watching me with that disappointed face…

… so much suffering…

The cycle of death and rebirth is a suffering. The definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again, expecting a different outcome.

That is what I’m doing. A death without change. A meaningless cycle. A mundane walk on this grey path to the end.

And nothing will ever change for me. Just spiralling down this cycle of self-loathing and despair.

Waiting for a change. An interruption to the routine. An anomaly.

And this book. The book that I’m casually flipping through right now, while trying not to reflect my inner turmoil onto my outward facial expression, this book is the anomaly of my life.

“No, no, no, Walk, you are absolutely mistaken. There is no need to be in sorrow, for Nirvana is ascertained, now that we have the book. Once we go down and get the Lord’s Spine, we’ll sweep the Spine and achieve your dream, Walk! To free this world of our sworn enemies!”

“My dream?”

“Exactly, Walk! Isn’t your dream to murder all the fish-heads and slimy-shit? You know, they are kind of in the way between you and your Gods.”

“Actually, I-”

He’s toying with you, again. Then again, how would he know? Did Anti tell him anything? But I just told Anti, hypothetically, literally a few minutes ago.

Dream doesn’t know about my plans yet. Or maybe he does? Have I told him before? Have I ever had that thought during our time as the Angel?

Or maybe he’s just mistaken.

No… Dream’s never consciously mistaken…

“Why do you care about my dreams?”

“No, no, Walk, you are mistaken, the dreams of all, including yours, are all parts of my dream, Walk. My dream is to achieve Nirvana. And it is when you accomplish your dream, which is to reach the heavens by spitting on the avatars of Gods, that Nirvana can be achieved!”

I never wanted to spit on them, you idiot.

 “Or… is it that you actually fell in love with the handsome and beautiful faces of the Gods, and want to make out with them?”

What. Fuck. Stupid. Why is he so fucking stupid?

“Maybe it may not be the most convenient time to discuss about your dreams now, my dear, and that’s fine. Still, it would be a waste of a good cig if you don’t just sit and chill with us.”

I lift my right leg and shove my heel forward. My winter boot smacks the tree.

“Damn, Walk, I don’t even think you’re mistaken anymore, you just need to chill. Don’t be so mad all the time. I mean, the poor tree’s innocent. Like a baby. A cute little baby. You’re hitting a baby, Walk.”

“It’s because you dodged, you cowardly fuck. Come back, so I can kick you properly.”

“Aww, don’t kick me, Walk, I’m a baby too. A cute little dreaming baby!”

Stupid. Gosh. Why am I wasting my time with this idiot? I mean, I’m holding the book, and I have the Light. I could’ve just entered the underground cave by myself.

Actually, I’ll just do that. I head to the entrance of the Cord.

“Yeah, actually, that’s a good idea, Walk. You could meet Mother by yourself. I mean, you both have the same dream, which is to massacre all the avatars of Gods and free this world from them, so I’m sure it’ll work out just fine.”

Now I’m fucking certain he’s toying with me. But what does he want to get out of me? Does he want me to explicitly reject his statements?

“No, no, no, Walk, you’re absolutely mistaken, it seems that the weird contortion of your face has revealed your inner confusion. Do not wonder too much about my words, for I have full confidence in your cooperation with Mother. Indeed, the moment she hears your reaffirmation of your dream to murder our enemies, she will be so touched, she will shed happy tears for the first time in her life!”

Why isn’t Anti saying anything? He’s just there, smoking and listening. Does he not find Dream’s statements… weird?

“What are you waiting for, Walk? You best hurry up, for the Gods are listening, and they know of your dreams, of which I am absolutely sure I am correct about.”

I turn around. It’s subtler than before, but I can spot Dream’s conniving smirk anywhere.

Honestly, I don’t know what to do. Does he want me to openly reject his statements in front of them, and the Gods, in effort to win the People’s and Coral’s trust?

Is he actually helping me? Was this part of his “negotiation” with them? Fuck it, I don’t need his help.

Actually, I do.

I don’t know how to deal with Mother.

But I feel bad. Shit. Mother isn’t wrong for wanting to protect this world. I’m just selfish.

But Mother needs to understand that there is no point in protecting a world without a purpose.

If your entire purpose in life is to protect a purposeless world, then doesn’t that make you purposeless as well?

“Ah, Walk, my dear, you know, if Dream’s mistaken, you should correct him. And kick him, hard. Cause he’s mistaken. And he said that he’s never mistaken.”

“Dammit, Anti, I hope you trip and fall.”

Anti stands. He tosses his cig off the Island. He walks toward me.

“Grey Walker, with a name so glorious and powerful as that, which path will you take in your unfaltering walk to the end?”

For the first time, I angle my sight slightly downwards and rightwards, looking at the white-haired idiot. I don’t know why.

But he knows everything, doesn’t he? I mean, he wouldn’t be called “Dreamer” if he’s not privy about our dreams.

But… what about Anti? Do the brothers share the same dream?

I think… it’s rather unlikely. Mother and I don’t share the same dream.

Fuck. Stop going in circles, Walk. There’s no time.

But there’s a lot of time in this world, isn’t it?

No, there’s no time, not when the flower-shirted being is watching me from on top of the Spine.

… He’s still there, eh?

Thought he would’ve disappeared.

And why is he so…

… I am starting to feel…

… uncomfortable…

No, Walk. There is no time, Walk.

There is no time. I have to act.

I have to… I have to…

… risk disappointing him again.

“I’ve seen you before. Somewhere. Sometime ago. I think it’s fair to say that all of us feel a certain sense of… uneasiness, just by looking at your face.”

I’ve never seen Dream so serious before.

But the being is not looking at him. The being is looking at me. Staring at me. With those eyes. Mellow. Soft. Spiritless.

The being’s frown is hollow. Unforced. Not a single muscle overstressed. A natural… disappointment.

There are three of us on the Island, and yet… why is he only staring at… me?”

“Hello? Flower-shirted being, I’m speaking with you now. Look at me, not her.”

Yes. Please. Look at him. Stop looking at me with those eyes. Please.

“Anti, I don’t like the look of that being. I know he has been popping in and out of our sights for some time, but he’s been standing there for way too long. He no longer belongs here. Could you push the being off the Spine with your wings?”

Yes. Get the being away from me.

Please.

Please.

Please.

“Dream, do you remember… that day on the Ark?”

“Anti, it was twenty-five years ago. Honestly? I don’t care. I don’t even mind being around the People and Corals, but that being has long overstayed his welcome. He… is the poison of this world.”

Yes. Unwelcome. Stop. Staring. At. Me.

What have I done… wrong?

That day on the Ark.

I remember. I can’t remember. That day on the Ark.

And ten years after that.

The Bloody Rain.

All my life, a Bloody Rain.

All my life, there is no meaning to the end.

I am not needed here. aren’t I?

No. No. Get out. Get out. Of my head.

No. Stop. Why are you. Doing this?

What have I done to deserve this?

 

 

 

STOP STARING AT ME

 

 

 

“Grey Walker, why can’t you just stay dead? Every single minute you are alive, I get more disappointed in you, and myself.”

 

 

 

---

- Meanwhile –

(“A Grey Walker to the End” by Grey Walker)

A poem, of which I ought to say

as a spirit withers away

and silently, the tides will rise

yet someday, maybe there will be a way

a dream, yet where am I

enclosed, a box made of my mind

a sweet serenade from an outside lie,

a feeling unreconciled, a lie

 

A façade, and we are but a truth

so are we but lamentations of the end

a creeper, weeping through the end

and secretly, the dreams are dead

unbent through the end

in the beginning, there might be a place

a home, maybe a hibernation corner

a refuge, from the refuse of the end

and all our dreams are dead

as we march towards the end

 

A rapier, yet the rocks are tactile

but my mind is fragile, but really just agile

a thousand words, and none makes sense

that is why the lives are far more dense

a crater, just another crater of life

but whoever shall shine, a pleasure on the line

and a path, no, many paths to the end

a brilliant light, but why is it still night

 

At sundown, maybe some things will change

will the dust be swept, a lonely throne

as I greyly walk towards the end

a dull cold penetrates my run-down sweater

but will there be a truth, waiting in the sky

or just a path, a grey path of lies

a day talker, or maybe I’m to tend

the eternal Grey Walker to the end

 

And the Gods will witness

my story till the very end

 

 

 

---

- End of Chapter 3: Ark

 

 

 

 

 

***