Chapter 4: Motivation
Event 44. Forty minutes before the story started.
- After the flower-shirted being appeared on the Spine of
the World –
(Dreamer. Island of I)
This is the most peculiar situation.
The flower-shirted being appeared on the Spine. Almost
immediately, the heaviest Bloody Rain started to fall.
Walk’s slumped onto the grass, both hands clasping her
temples; her fingernails are frantically scratching her scalp, dyeing her black
hair blood-red. Her eyelids are so wide open, I swear her eyeballs are halfway
from popping out.
… Damn, how I wish I can beat the flower-shirted being to a
pulp.
But this… Bloodiest
Rain, is peculiar in an even more peculiar way. Usually, these corpses will
never land on the Island of I. That’s why Father and Mother felt that it was
safe enough to rest here for seven weeks. That’s why I felt that it was safe enough to negotiate with those beings here.
Things are changing. Things are moving forward. These
chains of events are interruptions to the norm. The routine has been broken.
The three of us know, deep down, that it may be too late.
The anomaly… hinting of an eventual sunset.
And this flower-shirted being is unmoving. His disturbing
death stare at Walk is unwavering.
Yet this being is not a stranger to us. Sadly, twenty-five
years of stagnation has made us forget the being’s identity.
Is he one of the so-called Gods?
I step forward. I stop in front of Walk.
“Hey bastard, enough.
I don’t know what’s your purpose of being here, just standing there silently
and suddenly spouting such imbecilic words, but you can fuck off from our lives.”
His irises gradually tilt downwards, aligning his gaze onto
my glare. Such… normal eyes. Not of anger. Not of pain.
Soulless, as if all of the being’s life energy is seeping
away. The being sighs, as a corpse lands onto my head, knocking me down, flat
onto the grass.
It’s as if his presence has jeopardized the integrity of
this world.
But I’m not staying down, not when Walk’s holding the book in
that way.
“If you want me… dead… then I… I…”
“No, Walk!”
With my chest still on the ground, I quickly lean forward
and reach for the book in Walk’s grasp. My outstretched left-hand grabs onto the
outstretched end of the book’s sharpened spine. It’s a… very awkward way to
hold it. Not only don’t I want to injure myself, but I need to be careful not
to actually push forward…
… as the other end of the book’s spine is pointing at
Walk’s heart.
I know death is meaningless in this place, yet things are
different now. I have a tingling sense that Walk’s next death could be the
actual end for her... The flower-shirted being is watching us. I hear another
faint sigh, as I try to pull backwards.
“Let go, you idiot! You don’t understand me! No one does!”
“Walk, you’re absolutely mistaken. You’re absolutely,
definitively, undeniably mistaken!”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! Why the fuck are you still pissing at me
like this?!”
Because that’s the only way I know how. Sorry, Walk, but
angering you is the only way for you to take your mind off the dark clouds in
your head…
… even if it is just for a moment.
“I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”
And a moment is more
than enough for me to pull the book away from your grip.
That’s why I acted the way I did all this while, Walk…
… I’m... sorry.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!!”
Walk, please, no, don’t be like this, alright? I didn’t
know what else to do.
… The first time I made you kill yourself…
… me constantly repeating that you were mistaken…
… my seemingly heartless attitude towards you…
… were all so that you could be angry at me, instead of
yourself…
… so that you could hate me, instead of yourself…
“Dream, lift your left-hand with the book into the air,
now!”
Huh? Suddenly, I feel myself pressed onto Walk’s sweater,
as a big, winged, suited man grabs us with his arms.
“Dream, I’m just gonna fly us into the Cord. Hold on tig-”
I feel the big, winged, suited man pressing onto me and a
sweatered woman.
“Ah, shit, sorry! There’s too many of these th- agh!
Dammit! Those things are breaking my skull apart!”
Bodies after bodies pummel Anti’s head and back.
“Shit. How are we gonn- aghh! Fuck! Fucking hell that hurts!”
Bodies after bodies piling up onto us three.
How many minutes, hours, or days have passed?
Or maybe it has just been a few seconds?
I no longer feel Anti’s body intermittently exerting extra
weight onto me. I no longer feel Anti’s body.
“Guys, we gotta go, now.”
“There’s no point…”
Walk finally speaks.
“What’s the point? Mother would be against all this…”
“Walk, you’re absolutely mistaken. Anti and I, we’ll
convince her together, right Anti?”
Why did I expect a nod from him? Of course, he would
respond with silence. None of us have had this well thought-out.
I feel a tug.
“Give it back, you bitch! Give back my book!”
I tug. She tugs. I tug harder. She tugs harder.
“Why, Walk? So that you could kill yourself, again? The
flower-shirted being’s toying with you, Walk! You can never die, and that is
your strength, Walk!”
“Then why are you stopping me if you think I won’t die?!
You’re contradicting yourself, you slimy little fuck! Get your fucking hands
off!”
“Walk, my dear, please calm down, please?”
Yeah, like that’ll work. Anti’s careful not to help either
side in the tug-o-war, for both Walk and I are pulling opposite ends of the
book’s spine. Any additional force onto either side might result in
accidentally launching the book straight into our hearts.
“You shut up, Anti! You don’t understand me, too! None of
you understand m-”
A corpse falls onto Walk’s outstretched hands. With the
force suddenly unequal, the book lunges toward me.
“Dream!”
Anti lunges toward me. Why the hell is he lunging towards
me? He thinks he can stop the book from injuring m-
Oh.
Oh. Damn.
What are the odds of… this?
This sharp pain in my chest.
Anti lunged too violently ahead.
The two ends of the book’s spine.
Stabbed into each other’s hearts.
Ah. Haha. Hahaha. Shit. Life’s a cruel joke.
I’m pretty sure the flower-shirted being’s laughing right
now.
Ah, fuck.
---
- After Grey Mother
punched, stabbed, and slashed Angel out of frustration –
(Grey Mother. Samsara)
I feel bad.
I mean, it’s not like
they will die, but I shouldn’t have done that.
Dammit.
Dream and Angel have
both healed. They look brand new. It only took about fifteen minutes of profuse
bleeding.
None of them screamed.
Angel grunted a lot. Dream was just sad.
Come on, Mother. They
will understand, don’t they?
I mean, why did they
come to Samsara in the first place, knowing Anti and his army will invade
anytime now?
I wanted to ask them,
but I guess the situation now is kind of… awkward.
I’m just sitting on
one of the stairs of the white pyramid, leaning back onto the white box I’ve
built out of those fishes’ bones, staring into the empty abyss at the direction
of the Tower. Dream and Angel are on the other side, facing the direction of
the Cliff.
The box is two and a
half metres in length, width, and height. There should be ample space inside, I
think.
The Lord of Stagnation
on the Warm Chair on top of the box should be well secured, I think.
Everything will go
swimmingly. We will get the book, get the Lord’s Spine, sweep the Spine of the
World, save the world, I think.
Why am I doubting
myself now?
Have I made a mistake?
I think so.
No, I didn’t. It’s all
for the sake of everyone’s safety.
I cannot let them die.
“Mother, save us!”
“Why have you forsaken
me, Mother?!”
No. No. Stop! Why are the voices
in my head so freaking loud?!
“Mother! Help!!”
“Ah, Mother, we
finally meet! Truly, I am so sorry
for making you wait so long! In order to express my sincerest apology, I have
brought some friends to pour out our deepest feelings of remorse from our true hearts, together!”
I don’t recognize that
voice. I don’t recognize that attire either. Father died outside of my sight.
But I understand this
better than anyone. He’s here. Antispirit.
Holding the book. He used it to break out of the Old Walls of the Beautiful
Field.
And tagging along
behind him… are millions of shitheads.
Great. A distraction
from the voices in my head.
And here I declare, as
your Grey Mother, I will protect you.
All of you.
And once all of our
enemies are destroyed by my blade of love…
“Mother!! Save us!!”
… we will all live
happily ever after.
---
Event 45. Thirty minutes before the story started.
- During the Bloodiest Rain, after the hearts of Antispirit
and Dreamer were stabbed by opposite ends of the book’s spine –
(Grey Walker. Island of I)
In some way, I am glad this current scenario is happening.
Because it is the only scenario ridiculous enough to avert
the flower-shirted being’s gaze to another direction.
How stupid must those two be? Then again, it’s my fault,
isn’t it?
No, no, no, Walk, you are absolutely mistaken, it isn’t
your fault. I mean, so what if I actually killed myself for good? Why is that idiot
so concerned, anyway?
Gosh. I’m speaking like Dream now. I don’t know whether to
laugh or to cry.
The two brothers are kissing. Fucking making out. I mean,
how can they not be?
Hah. Haha. Just kiss already. Holy shit, I’m going crazy,
aren’t I? But seriously, those two couldn’t even manage to let out the
slightest whimper before liquefying into reddish, pinkish, yellowish Soup. The
brothers’ juices splash onto the grass. Some of it got onto my arm. Fuck. It
hurts! But the Soup quickly slides off my arm, as if it is uninterested to
dissolve me.
I wish that it actually dissolved me, though.
And the Soup coagulates into a spherical ball the size of a
basketball. It grows bigger in diameter. Half a metre. One metre. Two metres.
Still slumped onto the ground, I frantically move myself backwards. Three
metres. Four metres. Is it going to explode? Fuck, it’s going to explode.
And the flower-shirted being seems so… enthused by this
turn of events.
The ball violently collapses into something cylindrical. Vein-like
structures spurt out of the rainbow-tinted cylinder. The… thing, grows larger
and larger, until it slightly exceeds my own height. The blend of colours
gradually settles into just three, then two, then one, as a flower of brilliant
white blooms out of the top, with several unmissable streaks of black. Several
jagged red lines and tears manifest across the central region. A long white cape
surfs along the waves of the wind.
And the eternally bright sky seems to be even more frozen
in time, awestricken and silent, as the Bloody Rain stopped falling.
It’s as if the Gods themselves are stunned in place by the
second coming of Fatherson Spirit. Hunched. Emaciated.
And the hundreds of holes and tears infest the purity of
his cape, as if there are holes and tears invading the walls of his heart.
And most jarringly of all, he is without his feathery
wings, as if the immense sadness of his heart has constrained his freedom, and
with it, his feathery wings of freedom…
But I can only wonder, for the Gods work in unspeakable
ways…
I wonder, whether the Gods are feeling absolute joy, or
sheer disappointment…?
… Why?
… Why are you staring at me again?
… Please… please stop…
… Not even an anomaly of that scale could forever avert
your gaze from me…
… Your disappointed gaze…
… No.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
Stop staring at ME!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
---
- After Antispirit,
Underwater People, and Philosopher Corals arrive in Samsara –
(Grey Mother. Samsara)
“Ah, my beloved Mother!
Such a beauty you are, protecting the throne all by yourself! There is definitely
no one else but you alone in this cave, Mother; how brave you must be!”
“Shut up. You have no
right to speak, you treacherous piece of shit! Siding with the enemy, how
braindead must you be, Anti?!”
How dare he stroll
into this place so casually? And he’s such a coward, hovering ten metres from
ground level like an ass. I know he’s working with the enemy, but dammit, I
would be lying if I say I’m not the least bit impressed at how big of an army
he amassed. Thousands, if not millions
of sea creatures flood this place. Samsara is a wide open cave of at least two
kilometres in width and seven kilometres in length, yet half of it is now an
ocean of red, purple, yellow, and green.
“Ah, Mother, don’t be
like that, eh? Truly I only wanted everyone to be happy, that’s all. And for
that, I need the Lord’s Spine. Oh, and I need Walk, too. Ah, she’s definitely
not here, is she?”
Why the hell does he
want Walk? And how the hell does
Dream knows he wants Walk? They’re working together, I know it.
Dammit. I’m surrounded
by enemies, both in front of me, and
behind me.
“You want the Lord’s
Spine, fine, we all want the Lord’s
Spine. But you didn’t amass an army just for the Lord’s Spine, did you? You
unredeemable bitch! Why the hell do
you want Walk?!”
Drawn across Anti’s
face, is a smirk resembling that of Dream’s. Truly, they are brothers with the
same assholes.
“Ah, Mother, you truly
will never understand the true
meaning of my plan! Indeed, to achieve Nirvana, I will need Walk to fulfil her
dream! But… seriously, you’re keeping Walk in that white box behind you,
right?”
No. That is an
elevation, not a box.
“Then you could’ve
told me kindly, and perhaps I
might be open to the idea. To work together with our wretched enemy is to
defile the sanctity of this world, and for that, this discussion is over.”
He crosses his arms.
He fucking sneers at me.
“Mother, you’re making
a fool out of me. Any little baby could figure out that Walk’s in that damn
box. And where else could Dream and Angel be, but behind it? Mother, why are you hampering Walk’s true dreams?”
I mean, I could’ve
just told everyone the truth, and they will all understand me, won’t they?
“The box is an elevation, dammit, so that your shitty
little army could never reach for the throne.”
“Ah, elevation!
Mother, you are a genius! Truly,
using an elevation as a protection against a being with wings! Hah! Aren’t you just jealous, Mother? And why is the Lord
covered in… dirt?”
As he slowly flies his
way towards the Lord, one second is all I need to make him whine like a beaten
child.
“Agh! Mother! That
hurts! Shit! What if I die?! What if your very own kid died? Then you’ll be a
failure of a Mother! Agh, dammit, shit!”
I spit on the ground
beside me so forcefully that its splashes bounce all the way up to the idiot
who’s in mid-air.
“You’re not my child, Antispirit.
Especially since you chose to side with the enemy to pursue that shitty dream of yours. Your presence in
this place desecrates the very duty
that I swore my whole life to!”
He pulls out of the
knife from his chest, sticking out just a few millimetres below his heart.
“Hah! You don’t have
any more knives, Mother! How are you
going t- Agh, fuck!”
He lobs the second
knife back at me. The carefully handcrafted piece of bloodied art is back in my left hand’s grasp.
“Mother, Mother, Mother, is your duty to restrict Walk
from fulfilling her true desires? Is your duty to entrap Walk in that cramped,
airless, depressing box for life? Is
that your way of ‘protecting’ her? What kind of parent ‘protects’ their kid by
imprisoning them in a fucking box?!”
He will never
understand.
Dream and Angel will
never understand, too.
Only they will understand me.
But Mother, how are
you so sure that they will understand you? I mean, you…
I tighten my right
hand’s grip onto the two-metre-long blade, while slightly loosening my left
hand’s grip onto the thirty-centimetre-long knife.
“You came here to
fight me, Anti, or you came here to fucking talk
your way out of this?”
He rolls his eyes and
sighs.
You’re being a tad bit
overprotective, aren’t you, Mother? Seriously, what kind of stupid plan was
that?!
“Mother… you’re
severely outnumbered here. I don’t want to have to kill you, you know?”
“Bah! Stupid! The
floating motherfucker doesn’t want to kill Mother, because he wants to fuck
her! He’s a literal motherfucker!”
“People, you will at least try to be a bit more
civilized. Your choice of words only gets more degrading the longer you remain
in this world.”
“Shut the fuck up,
Corals! We say whatever the fuck we
want! And we want to kill Mother, and
fuck Mother!”
Such sacrilegious language is not allowed in my
world.
“Anti, let me ask you
again, did you come here to fucking talk?!
Who the hell gave you permission to
speak?!”
With one large swoop,
I can hear the very depths of Samsara sigh in agony, as the bones and black gas
once again dirtied these sacred grounds.
As the screams echoes
throughout the endless cave of peace.
A relief…
… as the voices in my
head are gone.
---
Event 46. Fifteen minutes before the story started.
- After Dreamer and Antispirit remerged into Fatherson
Spirit –
(Fatherson Spirit. Island of I)
Whoa. Hold it right there.
What happened?
I… thought I was dead? I killed myself, didn’t I?
I lived two separate lives. I think.
Wait, so, what, how? When? It’s hard to have a clear
picture when the events all seemed out of order.
And the book’s in front of me…?
Oh, wait, so I went with this… Grey Walker… to the Tower of
Angel… as Antispirit?
And I told those wretched beings about Grey Walker’s
dreams… as Dreamer?
I… see…
Wait, why is there someone standing on the Spine of the
World? The being’s wearing a pink shirt with flowers on it.
Is the being shaking his head? Is the being sighing? Why is
he disappointed? Why? Why?
Why am I so concerned about him?
Why is the being disappearing?
No, come back!
I… I…
I’ve seen you before… that day on the Ark…
I always wanted… I always wanted to tell him that…
… That it’s going to be okay…
But the book… the book!
Why is Grey Walker crying?! What happened?
W-W-Why…
Is it all… my fault?
If only Mother were here…
Wait, no, Mother, she died.
She was murdered!
Murdered by the bastards from the
sky!
Bloody fucking
Rain!
But… what do I even live for… anymore?
Why…
Why is Grey Walker screaming?!
Everything is fine.
Everything is fine everything is fine everything is fine
everything is fine everything is fine everything is
it’s going to be okay
---
- After the
commencement of the battle between Antispirit, Underwater People, Philosopher
Corals, and Grey Mother –
(Grey Mother. Samsara)
A dodge to the left. A
short leap. A swing to the right. A duck. A roll. A jump and an overhead smash.
I dance to the rhythm
of the People’s frenzied blades, savagely stabbing and slashing every direction
that isn’t me.
I charge forward,
pressing my palm onto a fish’s head, lobbing myself forward, and with one
carefully timed swing, made sashimi out of fifteen fishes.
The Corals are
pussies. All they can do is fart out that shitty black gas.
“Fucking hell, Corals,
could you actually put in some effort?! What the
fuck could you do, other than vomiting shit?!”
“People, you will realize
that this… excrement, that you were
talking about, is the vengeful Lightless Field, and it will only serve to enlighten the mental state of Grey Mo-”
Shut up. Now there’s more of those gases. Shit. The area’s getting
darker.
“People, you will cease the relentlessness of your attacks!
The… aliveness of Mother and Dream
are essential to our plans.”
“Oh wow, motherfucker’s
bossing us around! Motherfucker’s bossing u-”
“People... Sigh.”
Amazing. The Corals have actually given up on the People.
But really, I’m more concerned about the two shitheads behind the
box. You know, I expected Dream to make a quip or two following Anti’s
invasion, but… nothing.
Did I really hurt his feelings that badly…?
I think you’ve hurt their feelings, too.
I don’t have time. The Lightless Field is dense in weight. They tend
to sink to the ground. Using precise legwork, I easily exploit the People’s
extraordinarily large fish heads as stepping stones for more carnage. The
bloodshed will never end.
The bloodshed will
never end, won’t it?
I am never so weak as to get killed by the gimmicks of such puny
aliens, but… what’s my game plan here?
Oh right, the book. Anti’s holding it. I just need to get it from
him, and they lose their leverage over this battle.
Unfortunately, he’s even higher
in the air now. Fifty metres. Another fifty metres and he would’ve hit the
rocky ceiling of Samsara.
“Fucking wimp! You should feel utterly ashamed of yourself!”
“Ah, Mother, it pleases me to see that you still have so much motivation in you! Unfortunately, we are
both in a stalemate, aren’t we?”
He’s right. I’m pissed. Better for me to just continue my massacre.
More fish heads pop off. More tentacles sliced and diced. More Old Walls flying
about. More Lightless Field flooding the area.
Why am I still fighting? I may be able to kill at least a hundred a
minute, but with half of Samsara
filled to the brim with these shitheads, I’m never going to win anytime soon,
aren’t I?
And more could just come in through the Beautiful Field. If the
world runs out of these shitheads, another Bloody Rain will recover their numbers.
I just need to kill them all. That’s right. As long as all our
enemies perish, then they will understand my actions.
They will understand why I went to that extent to protect them.
And they… they…
“Mother, Mother, Mother… Now, it just pains me to see your
motivation flailing! Indeed, your motivation is to protect Walk, isn’t it?
Trust me when I say that the ever-so-kind People and Corals will never lay a finger onto Walk, for I have
convinced them not to do so! And you know me, Mother, for I am the most
innocent and kind-hearted saint who only preaches peace and eternal happiness
for all!”
… they will finally love me.
“Mother, all I need is for Walk to sweep the Spine. Mother, trust me
when I say that Walk will be brought to the Spine unharmed, and I will bring
her back to this underground cave, unharmed! Mother, all I ask for is your
trust in this sweet, sweet little baby, and we’re cool.”
“For crying out loud, what’s so important about her ‘dream’ anyway?
Dammit, she wanted to read the book, right? She told me about it, before Dream
and Angel descended to Samsara. Why are you so fucking desperate to have her dream fulfilled? And Dream, too! You
guys are working together, aren’t you? What sort of shitty scheme are you
planning, Anti? Speak.”
The winged man finally descended, albeit not close enough for a
thrown knife to accurately hit him.
“Mother… are you just afraid of a change? Are you afraid of what
might happen? Why are you so resistant about the possibility of doing something…
different?”
I sneer at him.
“I’m not. We’re all living ever so peacefully here, and you and your
shitty little army just had to fuck
it all up!”
He sighs.
“Ah, Mother… This is the farthest from ‘peace’! This cave is
immovable, unchanging, and absolutely stale!
It’s a stagnation, Mother! A stagnation! Are you impeding on Walk’s
hopes and dreams just so that you can selfishly spend the rest of your lives
together in your stagnant little
peace?”
I throw my knife at him. I miss. Duh, Mother, he’s thirty metres
away. But I was never so inaccurate before.
Perhaps… my motivation is indeed flailing.
“You don’t understand me, Anti. I have found my peace! And it is my sworn duty to maintain this peace, and to protect
it from anyone who dares intrude upon it! Unlike you, the foundation of my
peace is strong and infallible! There can be nothing that
could threaten it; not a million fishes and shits, and especially not you and your dumb ideas!”
I snort with seething rage.
“Do you know why I am so opposed to your idea, Anti? It is because
the foundation of it is risky, and
there are no roots to support your
goal! To achieve peace by giving Walk the ability to read the book? There is no logic in that! And because there is no logic, your entire
daydream crumbles and can never be built up again! And do you know
why, Anti?”
I glare at him; my stare pierces right past his shades and into the
deepest parts of his retina.
“Because you are weak,
Antispirit. Just like Dream. Just like Walk. Just like everyone else in this world.”
Darkness. Shit, since when did the Lightless Field shrouded the entire damn place? Isn’t Anti concerned
about killing me or the others?
“I’m sorry, Mother, but sometimes, you need to take risks and leave
your damn comfort zone. All this
world needs right now is an anomaly,
and it is this very anomaly that will drive the world forward.”
It’s so dark. Fuck. I can’t stay in this Field for too long. How do
I get out? Shit.
Ah… dammit. The bitch’s really going all out, huh?
I try to see. I try very hard to see.
And I see…
I see… something that is bright.
A large… thing that is bright.
I walk towards it. I immerse myself in the peacefulness of the
Light.
W-wait… This is the…
Fuck.
“And the anomaly shall serve as the Light that shines the path in
this Lightless sea! Now, Mother, you wouldn’t mind if I take a peek into that
big glowing white box of yours, right?”
And a voice behind me. A panicked voice.
“M-Mother…”
No, Dream, I don’t have time for you. I need to settle this. I need
to end this now.
“Mother, w-who’s inside the b-box?”
Why are you still asking this question? Shut up. Shut up.
“N-No, Mother, you are m-mistaken… Mother…”
Enough! You will never understand me. Never. You weak
bastards will never understand the pain I went through to protect them.
To protect us.
And you will never understand my fear of… of losing…
“H-How many people are inside
the box?!”
---
Event 47. Ten minutes
before the story started.
- After the flower-shirted
being disappeared –
(Fatherson Spirit. Island
of I)
Nothing is fine.
Nothing is fine anymore.
The Bloody Rain won’t stop.
Walk won’t stop screaming.
Mother won’t stop dying.
The corpses pummel onto my
head. My arms. My torso. My legs.
I am forsaken. I have no
more purpose here.
I am not needed anymore.
I should just die.
Y-yeah… I could’ve just
died again. Then those two beings will come out of me.
Antispirit. Dreamer. They
have better lives than I do.
They have better dreams
than I do.
And all I did… was rest all
day.
Ah. Haha. Ah. I should just
kill myself. Haha. I should just stab myself with that damned book’s spine.
Please. Gods. I know there
are Gods. Surely a world this cruel can’t be but a playground of the Gods?
Gods. I know you’re listening.
Gods, I… I’m content with
my suffering.
Gods… please… no more.
No more Bloody Rain,
please…
No more. No more. Free me
from my pain…
… and let the two who are
better than me, fulfil our dreams of Nirvana…
I see it! The Light
Curtain!
The holy pillar of Light!
You are listening to
us, Gods!
You have come to save all
of us!
And if I… if I…
… if I step into the Light
Curtain, will I ascend to the great heavens?
And maybe, maybe…
… maybe I can finally meet
Mother there…
Walk… why are you also walking
towards it?
Walk…
… you do know that I was
being consciously delusional, right?
It is just… my way of
dealing with the pains of life…
The Gods are just treating
us as playthings… and the Light Curtain…
… is simply a way for us
to kill ourselves.
So why… why are you so
depressed that you would willingly surrender yourself to the Light?
Despite the Light Machine
in your heart, you felt as if your Light pales in comparison to the Gods.
… Why? Are you… as
consciously delusional as I am?
… Or is this simply your
own heartfelt choice?
Because… I know that… if
the Light Curtain were to consume me…
… however, and whenever I
die…
… Dreamer and Antispirit
will take my place, and the world will continue moving forward…
… to Nirvana.
But you, Walk… I feel, and
I think you feel it too…
… that your next death will
be your last.
… Sigh…
… Mark my words, Walk, when
Nirvana is achieved, and the world has been rewritten…
… All of us will be happy
again.
Dreamer and Antispirit in
me. Grey Mother and you in Spirit of Mother.
And the world will become
wholesome again.
Yet, it would be far, far
better if the flower-shirted being stop staring at us from behind.
For I do not need to turn
around to sense his presence.
And his whisper.
His seemingly disappointed,
yet seemingly hopeful whisper.
A whispering window to his
dreams…
“Come, Angel, reintroduce
yourself to this world, in time for the Gods’ destined tourism, and let your
second coming create a perfect world for the Gods…”
---
- After the box in the middle of the white pyramid starts to glow –
(Grey Mother. Samsara)
Dammit. Why. Why? This was
your plan all along, isn’t it, Anti?
Dream, you little fuck,
you were scheming with him all along, weren’t you?
But that terrified face. Those bulging eyes and that half-opened
mouth and those tiny drops of sweat down your gradually wrinkling face.
How did h- Wait. Calm down, Mother. You don’t know yet.
It simply cannot be. It simply cannot.
Those voices in your head are real?!
“… Mother? M-M-Mother…
Y-You…”
I grab the bitch by the neck. I ram him onto the box. Hard. I’m sure
his skull is broken. Maybe his spine, too.
How dare this bitch question me?!
“T-The… box… Mother, what did y-”
I clench my right fist, squishing his vocal cords. He chokes on his
own blood. His eyes roll upwards, trying to find the specks of brain cells left in his fucking empty head. Blood leaks from his blued lips. His arms,
which were grabbing ever so tightly onto mine, slowly loosened their grip,
before falling and flailing beside his lifeless body.
Bitch.
A sob. A very, very soft sob. A whimper. A long silent moan.
Dream’s dead, for now. The
voices in my head are coming back.
… Why?
He isn’t wrong for asking.
But he will never understand me.
But fuck, he’ll be fine;
he’ll be up and running and jumping in a few minutes. Maybe a few hours if I
really choked him that hard.
But he deserves it.
He doesn’t understand me.
Nobody does…
… not even them…
Mother, you are truly fucked in the head. Nobody loves you. You’re
just a monster that everyone wants dead.
“Angel, you are stupid!
Braindead idiot! I just fucking
killed a part of you! Look! He’s dead! Dead!
Angel, you piece of shit, could you at least give a fucking response?!”
I let go of Dream. He slumps to the ground, leaving a large trail of
fresh red blood on the box’s wall.
And because of the Light in the box, the red is… very apparent.
But… but…
I reach out for Angel’s neck. I stop. No. I shouldn’t…
Who the fuck are you even
protecting, Mother?!
What would Walk think of me?
What would Anti think of
me?
But… he’s with the enemy, so fuck
him.
But… the Lightless Field is blocking his view… right?
But… he heard… what I’ve done...
… What would Dream think of me?
And I just wanted him to understand, and yet now…
… he is even less likely to understand me…
D-D-Dream wasn’t wrong for asking…
He did nothing wr- HE DID EVERYTHING WRONG HE IS WRONG HE
SHOULDN’T HAVE OPENED HIS MOUTH AND DOUBT ME HE SHOULD JUST DIE BECAUSE HE IS
WEAK AND STUPID AND BRAINLESS AND ARROGANT AND
“Corals, look! The box is shining! It is very bright! Corals, the
motherfucker Grey Walker must be inside, fucking a mother! Let us destroy it so
that we can rule this world!”
no one understands me not even them no one
“People, we will wait for Antispirit’s
command before executing any rash plans, for Antispirit has mapped out a
thousand what-ifs, including what if there’s a mysterious white box that may or
may not contain Grey Walker! Antispirit, what will be our next step?”
“A-Ah, yeah, I totally planned for all this to happen, the Lightless
Field, the shining box, y-yeah, but, since we already ascertained her location,
I say we wait for the Field to clear up so I can properly analyse the current situation, because you see, I’m in
mid-air, and I can’t see what’s going on, b-but I heard some concerning things that may jeopardize
t-”
“Fuck it! We smash the
box, now! Corals, keep vomiting that
gross little shit! Fucking hell, Antispirit is not our fucking mother!
He doesn’t have the right to command us!”
“People, you wi-”
Slash. Jump. Summersault. Leap.
Swipe. Dodge. Swipe.
Shit. It hurts. I’m losing my focus. Focus. Focus!
You. Are. Protecting. The.
World. And. Everyone.
No, don’t hit the box NO!
No no no no no get away get away get away fuck off fuck off fuck
off
“Mo… Mo… Moth… er?”
Walk no I won’t let them harm you no no no
I won’t let them harm you my children no no no get the FUCK
AWAY FROM THE BOX
you fucked up, mother
“Eww… shit, motherfucking box’s vomiting out some real shit, Corals.”
“People… This… This is rather… unaccounted for, isn’t it?”
No NO it’s just it’s just it’s
“Corals… Isn’t this… that motherfucking Soup of Life thing? It
fucking burns!”
“People… It will be a tremendous help to us all if you break the box faster.”
“Oh yeah, that’s what I’d like to hear, Corals! Let’s destroy this
motherfucker!”
What the hell is that what the hell is that what the hell is that
what the hell is that what the hell is
it’s going to
be okay
no
it was
I just wanted to
“Ahhh! Shit! I’m fucking
melting! Shit!”
as long as I close my eyes it’s going to be okay no no no no no
“People, you will realize
that our numbers are practically infin- Oh… Oh… Wow… What the hell is this?”
“You’re dumbfucks, Corals. Thought you’re smart and shit. But
dammit, what the hell is this?”
Walk is fine no
Walk is not injured no
Walk’s skin is not burned no
Walk is not crying no
the bones and heads rolling on the floor are not that of my Grey
Children
my Children just decided to go back home and sleep good night sweet
dreams don’t let the bed bugs bite mommy will always love you no no nNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
---
Event 48. Five minutes
before the story started.
- After the Light Curtain
appeared –
(Fatherson Spirit. Island
of I)
This is the end, Walk.
This is the end.
We are no longer needed.
And the Gods have given us
a way out.
The Light Curtain.
A salvation from the Bloody
Rain.
It is inviting us in.
And I hold your hand, Walk.
Normally, you would’ve
resisted, but today you are different.
You are content.
You are content with your
end.
As you stare at the top of
the Light Curtain, the sorrows in your eyes seemingly vanquish.
As if… the Light Curtain is
a peephole to the world of the Gods.
As if… the Gods were never
that cruel.
So, is that why you are so
content with your end?
The end of your path.
The end of your neverending
walk.
Onwards.
To a tomorrow that is
brighter than today.
For a tomorrow may not
come, for you may never rebirth from this death.
For the Gods have willed to
you to a life of eternal happiness, in a permanent parting from this world.
And we step out of the
Island, hand in hand.
And the Light Curtain
welcomes us into this heaven.
Ah… Sweet, sweet freedom.
Sometimes, the simplest
things in life are the happiest.
And the only thing that
matters in the end…
… is a happy ending.
Ah, I am no longer holding
Walk’s hand, for she has ascended to the heavens above.
Free from this cycle of
death and rebirth… this Samsara…
To be one with the Gods…
and to finally be free from the poisons of this world.
It is my turn now.
The Light Curtain will
bring me to heaven.
And in my death… the
successors of me will rise.
Mark my words, Walk. Once
I, Antispirit, have rewritten this world…
… once I have made this
world ours…
… I will bring you back…
… welcome you back with
open arms…
… to rewrite a new history
for you…
… for all of us…
… to chase that beautiful
smile…
… so that the Angel will
never need to suffer again…
---
- After the box on the white pyramid has been breached –
(Dreamer. Samsara)
… Huh.
That was… saddening. Why was Mother so cruel to me?
What did I do to make her so angry?
I feel my neck. I feel the back of my head. I’m like a new-born.
Actually, no. Ouch. There are still some blood clots on my throat.
Damn. It’s still a little hard to breathe, but I’m fine.
I remember a Lightless Field. I couldn’t see anything. It helped
that Angel and I stuck close to the box. Walk’s Light Machine has managed to
repel the intensity of the Field.
Yeah, Walk. I knew that
Walk was in the box. I just didn’t want to press on. But I heard them. Voices. Voices from inside the box.
I thought I was going crazy, yet Angel told me he heard them too.
They were muffled, but they were without a doubt a cry of disbelief, a cry for
help.
I finally open my eyes. Bright. The Field’s gone. There are no
People or Corals directly in front of me. However, there’s the largest crowd
I’ve ever seen, standing like statues on the adjacent side of the box, to my
left.
I look to my right. Angel’s fine. Dammit, Mother, at this point
you’re just a sadistic little shit, aren’t you?
I stand up. I walk to the left. Anti is landing onto the ground. He disintegrates
his bat wings. I’m sure I can see him blink thrice through his shades. His jaw
drops as lowly as his eyebrows’ droop.
Mother is kneeling. Her hands are pressing the sides of her head.
Her fingers are digging the bald sides of her scalp. There are some traces of
red, pink, and yellow stained across her black mohawk.
“Wake up wake up wake up this is just a dream mother this is a dre-”
I look downwards. Red, yellow, green, pink Soup of Life flows
uninhibitedly along the rocky ground. The thick and colourfully gooey substance
completely submerges my sandals, ending at the bottom of my soles. It’s like
I’m walking on the very Soup itself.
I turn around. I witness the scene. The climax of the performance
that horrified the audience. The white box has a breach that nearly destroyed
the entire wall. The inside of the box has Soup dripping from the ceiling,
flowing down all three remaining walls, and stagnant in between crevices where
two walls meet.
What the fu- No. Calm down, Dream. Analyse. Understand the situation first.
Understand. The. Anomaly.
Walk is slumped on the far-right corner, leaning onto two adjacent
and equally colourful walls. Her arms are wrapping her folded knees. Her eyes
are bloodshot and bulging. Her hair is shorter and is in the midst of growing
back from what I presumed would be baldness. Her grey sweater has been torn in
many places across her two arms. The parts of her sweater that were torn have exposed
the boils on her skin, presumably due to the melting effects of the Soup. Her
legs are worse off; the skin on it has completely melted away, exposing her
reddish muscles that have turned slightly dark blue and green due to rapid
decomposition. Her right shin bone can be seen, cracked. She is no longer
wearing her winter boots. Barefooted, the bottoms of her soles are white with
hints of red, as if the skin has melted off but the flesh remains untouched.
On the flo- Fucking hell.
Breathe, Dream, breathe.
So, across the entirety of the two-and-a-half metres of floor space,
bones of various shapes and sizes are littered about. There are some ribcages,
some half-dissolved spines, some pelvises, some femurs…
A skull. Actually, two skulls. No, three skulls, with one of it missing its jaw. And there are four
skulls with skins.
Skulls with skins. Heads.
The heads are bald. Assuming that they had hair, the Soup probably
dissolved them. One head is cut off at the bottom part of the neck, with the
skin on the nose completely peeled off, and the bones on the cheek visible, yet
the eyes, shut tight, are unblemished. One head is cut off directly below the
chin, with the left eye socket empty and the right has an eye so bloody and
red, the iris couldn’t be seen. One head is cut off below the lower lip, with
the upper lip completely burned off, exposing the top row of decaying teeth.
One head is cut off below the nose, with both ears missing, in addition to
having all of its skin missing, leaving behind pulsing, necrotic flesh.
All the heads and bones are smaller than the average adult, even
smaller than Walk’s already petite stature.
They look like… the bones of children.
The voices I’ve heard… they were their
voices.
And their eyes—at least those that have not yet melted into iridescent
puddles, look similar to… Walk’s.
My gosh. Shit. Dammit.
What the fu-
No. Dream, no. Think. This is the current situation. We came here
for the Lord’s Spine. Where is the Lord of Stagnation at now? Ah, yes, still
perched on top of the box, still sitting on the golden throne, untouched.
Breathe.
Okay. Good. Now we need the book. Anti has it. Where is he? Ah, yes,
he’s in front of me, staring at me, as if I could somehow explain this
situation.
Breathe, Dream!
I stare at Mother, who is still grazing her scalp with her now-blunt
fingernails; small rivers of blood flows down her now dishevelled face,
staining her tightly clenched teeth a sorrowful dye of crimson red.
Alright, stay calm. You got this, Dream. You got this.
It’s going to be okay.
“I see… so Walk, too, experiences the cycle of death and two
rebirths. Except, unlike the rest of us who will rebirth into brand new
identities, Walk’s death is followed by the rebirth into… Walk herself, along
with a… child. And the reason why the child could not be seen on the
aboveground is that… whenever the child is born, it sinks downwards to this
underground cave, as if… unwanted by the world.”
Still calm? No? Breathe.
“From my vague memories of when Anti and I remerged into Father, I
recall Walk dying in the Tower a total of four times. On the Island, she died
thrice. Seven deaths. Seven children.”
I bend down. I touch the Soup
of Life using my fingers. This skin-melting substance trickles off my fingers,
as if uninterested in me.
“And this… Soup of Life… I dare not make assumptions, for our
dearest Walk, who experienced the truth, is…”
She looks at me, yet it’s as if she’s staring at nothing. Her eyes
are hollow. Her soul has become that of a ghost.
I want to walk to her. I want to embrace her. I want to just… let
her know that I’m there for her.
If she were to shed a tear, or if she were to speak some words, I
want to be her shoulder, and I want to be her ears.
But I was pretty shitty to her, wasn’t I?
But that was the only way I knew how to get her back on track.
It wasn’t that serious, I thought. I tried to push her to her limits
and hoped that she will realize that the world isn’t so depressing and change
for the better. I challenged her to kill herself because I knew she wanted to
evolve, and since death is not the “end” of her, or any of us, she would’ve
evolved and finally reach her ideal state. And she did evolve. Every
time she died, a new child pops up alongside her original body. She has the ability
to not only never die, but to multiply.
Every time she dies, she comes back stronger.
But this is just me trying to make myself feel better, isn’t it?
Trying to justify all the shit that you did… yeah, it makes sense in hindsight,
and Walk has indeed moved forward instead of breaking down into a life of
stagnating depression, but…
… but she’s all alone now. Dammit. Couldn’t I just drop this shitty
prideful pretence and let her know that I care?
Dammit. No. Why? Is it that
difficult? Are you that heartless?
No, I’m not heartless, because I actually care about her, and the whole point
of me having this internal monologue is because
I care about her, so I’m not heartless. Dammit,
Dream, you’re just trying to push the blame to someone else, aren’t you? That
you’re this tragic person who truly cares about others on the inside, but acts
like an utter shithole on the
outside, and telling others oh it’s not
your fault oh no they should be the
one to understand you.
But in the end… am I really happy about what I’ve done?
This outcome… it’s all because of me.
Why did Mother hide Walk and the Children in the box? Because she
wanted to protect them from Anti and his army. Why did Anti work with the enemy
in the first place? Because he knew that Mother wouldn’t budge and would never
agree to Walk’s dream to empower the enemy. Why was he so insistent on helping
Walk fulfil her dream? Because her dream is the first step in his dream
to achieve eternal happiness—Nirvana.
Who did he get the idea of Nirvana from? Me. How is he planning to
achieve Nirvana? By allowing the four of us to fulfil our dreams, which was an
idea that I came up with. Why was he
willing to go to such lengths to achieve Nirvana? Because I inspired him to do so.
Dammit. Now, instead of blaming yourself, you simply placed yourself
at the one who set these chains of events into motion. You’re picturing yourself
as a tragic hero, a misunderstood legend.
… Mother was right… I am
useless. I am weak.
As much as I like to think of myself to be very similar, if not better than Anti, we can never be more
different from each other.
Like now. While I’m here having this useless monologue, Anti is already on top of the box, rubbing the
book onto the Lord’s chipped skull. There is a faint white light. Two seconds.
Five seconds. Twenty-five seconds later, the Lord suddenly crumbles, as if all
the ligaments suddenly evaporated at the same time. Most of the bones are scattered
across the throne and the top of the box, but the Lord’s skull rolls off the
box. It lands with a loud thump directly in front of me, splashing some Soup
onto my shorts and singlet.
The skull faces me. I look into its empty eye sockets.
The longer I stare at the skull, the more I see… myself, deep in those hollow holes that
used to contain eyes… I see myself sinking and spiralling into those holes, as
time no longer progresses, as if the things I do have no significance in the
grand flow of time.
And a single point of time that I will forever be. A stagnation. To
never move forward and to lose the ability to reminisce past events…
This is, indeed, Samsara.
By losing control of the present, we can never move forward.
And by losing control of this situation, Dream…
… you’ve became weak.
And Mother looks at the skull. And Mother keeps looking at the skull, as her fingers gradually stop digging
into her forehead. She quickly reaches for the skull and lobs it back onto the
throne. She resumes her mining of any sanity remaining in her traumatized head.
“Uh… so… the Lord’s Spine does
fit into the book’s spine after all. Dammit, why is the Lord so full of dirt…
Well… this is settled… I guess.”
Anti lands in front of me. A much bigger splash of Soup. I’m pretty
sure my white hair has been dyed green, or pink.
“Ah shit!”
He manifests his wings. He flaps his wings. He floats just slightly
above the surface of the Soup. His white leather shoes have been completely
dissolved. There are some minor burns on his feet.
“How do you even stand in this Soup for so long without so much of a
groan, man? You like your feet melting or something?”
Probably that the Soup’s just uninterested in someone as weak as I
am.
“Anyway… this is pretty underwhelming. I expected something… a lot flashier than this. The two parts just… fits. That’s it. Huh.”
… Yeah. I mean, what did we expect? What did I expect? A big explosion of happiness that somehow magically
transforms all this tragedy around me
into a more… wholesome situation?
… Seriously. How long will it take for me to realize that life just
doesn’t work that way?
The broom, huh? So… this is the legendary artefact that we’ve been
trying to obtain for the longest time?
This is indeed underwhelming.
“Hey man, you’re awfully quiet… I mean, this situation is pretty
explicit, but… Hey, People and Corals, why haven’t you said anything so far?
Especially you, People, you were usually the first to spit out statements so
vulgar they can easily be construed as dark comedy! Wouldn’t dark comedy be
great at a time like this?”
True. Those avatars of the Gods… Were they horrified? Were they sad?
They just sat there and… watched. With so much violence and bloodshed under
their hands, how could this mere anomaly silence them to such degree?
“Antispirit, we apologize for the lack of response, but we were just
trying to… process things. It’s… not within our expectations that this world
destroys itself from within.”
“Corals, you motherfuckers, this has exceeded all that we ever asked for! This world murdering itself
slowly from the inside… fuck yeah!
Hey. Hey Grey Mother. Why stop here?
Why not just trap everyone in your box and make them explode into fucking Soup,
huh? That seems like the best way to kill
yourself! Lock yourself in a box! Cry yourself to death! You motherfucking pussies, why bother living when your
life is just full of suffering? Just. Kill. Yours-”
“Underwater People, you will no longer speak such foul words!
Our purpose here is to control this
world in an effort to enlighten the
true path for this world! This is the true
purpose of our Lightless Field! To help
this world evolve! Every death is
followed by two rebirths, who will have evolved due to the realization of the original identity’s weaknesses! And this can
only occur through the generous
exposure of our Lightless Field! And to ensure that this world reaches its fullest potential and to be recognized
by the Gods themselves, we strive to control this world and properly educat-”
“Fuck me, Corals, that’s just a fancy way of phrasing the word
‘brainwash’. You and your fucktard
‘philosophy’ is just going to make this world lose its true self, and to lose
its fucking identity! You’re brainwashing this world that they ‘owe’ you a
fucking large debt, and that they should be grateful for all the fucks you gave to them! Well, fuck that! We’re only putting this poisoned
world out of its fucking misery, and we’re helping to rebuild this world from
scratch in our image! And it will be because
of our efforts, that this world, free from poison, understands its true
selves!”
“Agh! Shit. Shit. Shit.”
While the foreign beings are blabbering, Anti is now inside the box,
whispering painful groans. He carries the unconscious Walk, with the broom
wedged in between her sweater and his now skinless arms. Streaks of untarnished
Soup cascade down his legs, forming rivers of boiling flesh on his slacks.
“Agh. Huh. Phew… Damn. You know, pain actually isn’t that bad when you know it’s not gonna
kill you. Ah, truly the perks of having such precise conditions for death.”
“You know, Anti, the Soup could eat its way to your heart.”
“… Oh.”
“And you know, since you have the book, you could, like, manipulate the Soup, just like how you
broke out of the Field’s Walls and forged a passage through the Abyss?”
“… Oh. Heh.”
He exits the box, still floating himself aboveground.
“Oh well, life’s good, or at least… life will be good. We have Walk now. Let’s fulfil her dreams. And then…
ah… we will all be so happy…”
I try not to look at him. I sigh.
“Come on, man, why are you so gloomy all of the sudden? Chill out,
bro. I would’ve given you a cig if not for the fact that my arms are carrying
the progenitor of our happiness!
Dream, my brother, we will all be
happy in the end…”
I’m no longer that sure, actually… With how things turned out for
Walk and Mother, will the power of your dream magically make us all happy
again?
“Bro, just stick to our plan, and once it’s all done, it’ll be as if
we’ve never suffered before!”
I mean, we were never happy in the first place… That’s why the
Angel… killed himself in the Beautiful Field…
I look at Angel, just standing there, observing expressionlessly. If a mere dream of just one small part of
you—Antispirit, is enough to rid you of your depression, you wouldn’t have
suffered for so long, and we wouldn’t be in this situation… would we?
But if… if all parts of you
were to fulfil their dreams, and are fully content with the outcome… will that
finally make you happy?
Will we… finally achieve
Nirvana?
Or will the conflicting
motivations of all your parts cancel each other out, resulting in nothing but
a… mundane life?
A life where you want everything
to happen, and where in the end… nothing happens.
… And you’re going to die
knowing that you lived an unfulfilled life.
A great motivation… to live
a mundane life… just like a ghost.
“D-Don’t… Don’t take her… a-away from… m-me…”
The kneeling woman finally speaks through her blood-soaked lips.
“Mother… I only did all this because I saw no other way… But I
promise you, Mother, for I will ensure the happiness of us all; this is my
life’s vow to you, and you too, Dream, and you too… Walk…”
Anti’s head turns toward Angel.
“And you, Angel, I will finally… finally
chase that faraway smile for you…”
He takes off with his wings, bringing along Walk and the broom with
him. He heads toward the direction of the Cliff. Slowly. Surely.
And he vanishes from my sight.
“Wow, motherfucker just left with Walker and that broom thing.
Fucking hell, Corals, it’s all your
fault! With Mother having already given up, it would be so easy for us to fucking rip Antispirit apart while he was in that
box! He had nowhere to escape! Once he’s dead, we’ll just cram everyone into the box, and fucking seal
it up! Since these bitches rebirth into two upon dying, they would keep killing
themselves out of depression, and completely fill up the box! And we keep reinforcing
the box so that they can’t dig their damn way out! Eventually they will just
give up and explode into Soup! It’s so
fucking easy! We didn’t even need to take the risk of Walk empowering us and
all the shit! We could’ve won, an-”
“People, you will retract
your words! It is absolutely essential
that such inhumane goals of yours
never be fulfilled! How barbaric! Such… lunacy! As we’ve previously mentioned,
the key is to enlighten this w-”
I tune out of their conversation. Anti, we were absolutely right about them. These beings…
… they are their own
poison.
All we need now is for Mother t-
“EAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
“What the hell? Mother! No, no, no, Mother! You’re absolutely
mistaken! Mother, no!”
I try to reach for her, but I can no longer see her.
All I see… is the Lightless Field surrounding her.
“You see, People, it is clear that our enlightenment is the way for the world to progress forward! Just
look at Grey Mother, squeezing the tentacles of one of us in order to wallow in our enlightenment! It is within
our Lightless Field that she will find her way!”
It is in the Lightless
Field… that she decides to take her own life.
Mother… I’m sorry that you have to go through this…
As the Field dissipates… all I see is a puddle of Soup.
It doesn’t take long for the Field to penetrate your heart and kill
you… if you already planned to end your life.
The moment you let go of your will… those inner demons of yours will
spare no time in consuming you.
This is why we rather not have unnecessary deaths in this place…
Because the rebirths… are anomalies that could threaten our
happiness…
The more we die and rebirth, the further we venture from our true
selves…
The further we are from the Angel, the more we lose sight of…
… Nirvana.
I look at the two female beings.
Mother had a penchant for naming things. When Spirit of Mother died,
this spirit of motherly protection and love has been passed on to Grey Mother…
But these two beings… I do not feel any ounce of Mother within them.
The being on the left. A human. Female. Her form is seven metres
tall, of which only two is that of her “body”. Long black hair, reaching her
hips. Her entire lower face, starting from the centre of the nose, is covered
in a black metallic mask without any obvious textures, that exactly fits the lower half of her head,
including the intricate roughness of her lips, the small extrusions of her
earlobes, and the sharpness of her chin. The entirety of her torso, stretching
to her elbows, and all the way down to her knees, are covered in a thick black
metallic armour, which shines ever so slightly from the natural light of the
cave. From the locations where her wrists would’ve been, and where her ankles
would’ve been, are rusty, serrated, yet impossibly thin silver blades of five
metres in length, with its width, initially double that that of her limbs,
gradually thinning towards its tip. Her irises are darker than the Abyss, and
her sclerae are brighter than Walk’s Light Machine. She has no eyebrows
accentuating her seemingly dispirited, almost directionless gaze.
The being on the right. A human. Female. Her form is also seven
metres tall, of which only two is that of her “body”. Her torso, all the way to
her elbows, and reaching down towards her knees, are unclothed, except for a
black tube top not of a dissimilar shape and size to that of Mother’s, and a
slim-fit shorts of perfect rectangular shape. From the locations where her
wrists would be, and where her ankles would be, are thick black metallic
cuboidal armours that are just slightly more than double the width of her
limbs, and five metres in length. The end of each of these armours is a slit
that almost spans the entirety of the armour’s width yet having a width so
thin, even a third of a human hair might have difficulties fitting
through. Everything from the middle of her nose upwards to where her hair would
be is covered in a black metallic dome, which size exactly fits that of all the features on the upper half of her
head, including the slight indentations of the eyes, the remaining length of
the bridge of the nose, and the chiselled shape of her ears’ upper half. Her
mouth is slightly parted by both lips of the bloodiest red, shyly showing off
her charcoal-black teeth.
I expect an introduction. I expect a reaction, any reaction, to the current events. Nothing. The two beings just stand there, towering over us all with
their elongated blades and armours.
They are like statues.
Mother’s rebirths have successfully removed her one defining flaw;
the weakness that caused her
downfall, and the weakness that murdered
her.
Her heart.
Nameless as they are, they represent two sides of Mother. One is her
sworn duty to protect this world and rid the world of its enemies. One is her
sworn goal to live a normal, undisturbed life with her children.
I may just be thinking too far ahead, but I think Mother would’ve
agreed with me.
The being on the left. Great
Motivation.
The being on the right. Ghast
Mundane.
And my eyes and my heart can no longer resist the heaviness of the
situation.
Mother is dead. Mother is gone.
Rest in peace, Mother. Your legacy will live on.
And I… and I…
… with the protector of this world reduced into mere ghosts of
herself…
… all she wanted was just to love, and to protect everyone…
… we didn’t mean to do this… I didn’t mean to do this…
… as if all events in the past and the future are connected
to this dream of the white box…
… the white box… and Mother is dead.
Mother is dead.
Mother is dead!!!
But the two can always remerge into Mother.
But they will never do so.
Mother killed herself precisely so that she will never have a
heart again.
But I… But I…
MOTHER IS DEAD
---
Event 49. Just after the
story started.
- After Fatherson Spirit
and Grey Walker jumped into the Light Curtain –
(Fatherson Spirit. City of Sleep)
Ah… I’m finally in heaven.
Thank you, Gods, for
listening to my humble request for salvation!
Truly, I could feel no
happier than this, and I could ask no more than this!
My dear Gods, since you
have freed me from this endless cycle of stagnation, I would want to bow down
and kiss your humble feet!
My dear Gods, I hope and
pray to you, that the two beings who are better than I am, Dreamer and
Antispirit…
… I hope that they will succeed
in our dreams—the dreams of all!
My Gods!
My… Gods?
My dear Gods, why does
heaven feel so familiar?
Why does heaven feel so… stuck in time?
Is heaven truly a timeless
place?
Have I been in heaven… all
along?
Then… where is Walk?
Has she… ascended?
Has she… been approved by
the Gods to be free of the cycle of death and rebirth?
No wait. Wait. WAIT.
I am… I am not in heaven…
Back to this shithole.
Why… WHY?!
Why Gods… why…
Why couldn’t you just let
Dream and Anti take over my place?!
Why… why me…
I am… useless…
Father, think. It is not
the end. You can still ask the People and Corals to end your life, and…
… Shit. Dream negotiated a
truce with them. A truce that will only end once Walk empowered them. Ah. Fuck.
Why did I do that… Dream,
why did you do that… Why?! Such a stupid, stupid irony…
Wait. I still have the book
with me. I can end my life with it, and…
Oh… Oh no…
I left that damn book on
the Island…
… How?! Did I really
forget?
… Oh gosh… I am truly
useless…
… just like how I’ve
forgotten how to manifest my feathery wings…
… I know I said that I was
consciously delusional, but at this rate…
… I’m really going to go
nuts…
… If I was so determined to
kill myself, I could’ve just stabbed myself with the book on the Island, but…
… But then Walk would’ve
felt that she has died alone, and that might’ve hurt her, knowing that no one
was there to accompany her by her death…
… But why? Why the fuck
did you just let Walk die like that?
Fatherson Spirit. How dare
you?! How dare you forget that Walk’s an essential part of achieving
Nirvana?!
The dream of all can only
be achieved if every one of our individual dreams were achieved…
And Walk… she…
… she can never achieve
her dreams now…
FATHER, YOU PIECE OF
SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
A being. A male. A human. A human!
Wait… long-sleeved grey
shirt… images of a white sun and black moon on his pocket…
Grey hair… Grey jeans…
He… No…
It can’t be, for the Angel is dead!
We… We were the Angel…
“Did you murder Grey
Walker?”
Who… who are you…?
Are you here… to take my
place?
“Did you murder Grey Walker?!”
“Why are you… Who… are you?”
Father, calm down, analyse
the current situation…
Father, calm down, understand the current situation…
Dream and Anti could stay
calm in situations like these…
And they are not here, but
they are you, and you are them, so…
So why… why…
Useless… I am… useless…
“No… we can never… we can never be…”
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
… We can never be happy, can’t we?
I’m sorry, everyone…
We don’t deserve… to chase that smile.
So maybe… maybe we should all just…
… disappear.
---
- Meanwhile –
(“Chasing a Smile” by
Antispirit)
There was a time
when the world was a
beautiful lie
a hope that we could
all see each other
as a fellow human
being
and that was a dutiful
lie
a creator’s vision of
a peaceful star
that we human beings
could breathe on
and an undying will
that we could live on
A Dreamer’s will is
naught, but forsaken
a splendour of this
world, my wings of freedom
a brilliant light,
shining down on the dark
a blot in the purest
essence of mankind
and a freedom, a
liberation from war
an internal war, a
battle among my selves
a wisdom, like a
gorgeous quill inking the world
a story to tell, or
maybe to rewrite this world
A world where all
events shall be fated
according to my will,
and an Ark I will sail on
voyaging through the
seven seas, strange as they are
an odyssey to figure
out who we truly are
an adventure, a
journey, a transition through time
and the wild depths of
the unknown, now rise
the Ghosts of
Everything shall call out my name
and dance by the
graves of history and time
Do not despair, for my
dream is the world
a wild land across the
open seas, unexplored
as I lie on this Ark,
under an immovable sun
I witness a thousand
timelines fly across the sky
a thousand dreams, a
thousand lives, yet now
I wield the quill of
life, a story of solely mine
as I walk ever so
merrily on the Soup of Life
I will rewrite this
world, under the calm blue sky
So let us be dreamers,
wandering into the sunset
and let us be
thinkers, pondering until the sun sets
a story everlasting, a
story neverending
and let us be together
until our happy ending
---
- End of Chapter 4: Mundane
***
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