Chapter 5: Rain

Chapter 5: Rain

Event 2. Twenty-five years before the story started.

- After a meeting on the Ark of Salvation –

In the beginning, the heavens and the Star were created. Now the Star was dustless and barren, and a traumatizing Lightless Field was over the surface and underground.

And the Tourist said, “Let there be Light,” and there was Light. The Tourist saw that the Light was good, and the Tourist separated the Light from the Lightless Field.

The Tourist called the Light “day” and the Lightless Field he called “night.” And there was no evening, and there was no morning—the first day.

And the Tourist said, “Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water.” So, the Tourist made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it. And it was so. The Tourist called the vault “Comfort Zone.” And there was no evening, and there was no morning—the second day.

Then the Tourist said, “Let the water under the Comfort Zone be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.” And it was so. The Tourist called the dry ground “land”, and the gathered waters the Tourist called “Soup of Life”. Then the Tourist said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, and let there be the biggest and healthiest fig tree in the middle.” The land produced vegetation and a fig tree. The Tourist called the vegetated land “Island of I”. And there was no evening, and there was no morning—the third day.

And the Tourist said, “Let there be a barrier between the Island of I and the depths of the Soup of Life.” So, the Tourist moved the Island of I upwards and suspended it one hundred metres in the air, and made the barrier out of soft white sands, and shielded the depths of the Soup of Life with the soft white sands. The Tourist did not call the barrier by any name, for the barrier was meant to be reshaped after some time, and the depths of the Soup of Life the being called “Samsara”. And there was no evening, and there was no morning—the fourth day.

And the Tourist said, “Let there be a mountain that protrudes from the barrier, and let the mountain be ten metres higher than the Island of I.” And it was so. The mountain overlooks the whole image of the Island of I. Then the Tourist said, “Let there be a path from the barrier to the top of the mountain.” And the Tourist created a flight of stairs along the walls of the mountain. The Tourist called the mountain “Cliff of Wake.” And there was no evening, and there was no morning—the fifth day.

And the Tourist said, “Let there be a bridge that connects the Cliff of Wake to the Island of I.” And the Tourist created bridge of two thousand and five hundred metres, in the shape of a spine. Then the Tourist said, “Let the bridge symbolize the sufferings of the world of my heart.” And a thick layer of dust manifested on the bridge. The Tourist called the bridge “Spine of the World.”

And the Tourist said, “Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: the livestock, the creatures that move along the ground, and the wild animals, each according to their kind.” And it was not so, for there were no living creatures according to their kinds. The Tourist understood this, and called the lack of living creatures “Ghosts of Everything.”

Then the Tourist said, “Let me make a human in my image, in my likeness, so that they may create a perfect world for all the other Gods.” So the Tourist created the human in the Tourist’s image.

The Tourist called the human “Angel.”

The Tourist saw all that the being had made, and it was very good.

And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.

By the seventh day the Tourist had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day the Tourist rested from all his work.

---

- After Antispirit carried Grey Walker and the broom away from the breached box on the white pyramid –

(Antispirit. Samsara)

“M-mo… ther…”

She keeps repeating that. It’s been a whole minute. I’m still in the underground cave, but far enough from the others that even if I turn my head back, I can no longer visually perceive anything that’s happening around the white box.

Just half a kilometre more, and I’ll reach the bottom of the Cliff. I’m just taking it slow. There’s no rush.

I just want to sink into this moment…

Dream, it was such a huge risk, you know? But we were right; the People and Corals are the poisons of each other.,

But what if we empower them and they… resolved all differences? Then what? This world will truly be under their control by then.

I don’t think we’re gonna be so happy if that happens.

Ah… the beauty of believing in some faraway smile… What’s the point of dreams if they are right in front of you and you can so easily reach for them?

“Sam… sa… ra…”

Huh. Samsara? The endless cycle of death and rebirth, full of mundanity…

“M-mother… named this place… Samsara…”

Mother knew about our dream of Nirvana, doesn’t she?

“Walk, my dear, I’m really glad you’re awake, but… why are you recalling about this all of a sudden?”

The petite woman’s hair, sweater, and winter boots have regenerated to their unblemished forms. There is no longer a speck of injury or Soup on her.

“Anti… I could… evolve… I was so… happy…”

 I let out a subdued sigh. I know what she’s gonna say, and it’ll only hurt me more to hear it out of her lips.

“Those Children… they were made in my likeness… and they… we… have the same thoughts…”

I reach the bottom of the Cliff. Up until now, I’ve yet to spot a single fragment or shard of Old Wall on the ground. After Spirit of Mother died, Grey Mother massacred every single being across the entire seven kilometres of Samsara. There would’ve been a lot of dangerous remains on the ground.

And Mother cleaned all of them up. She expected us to return. And she scoured the place based on the rather far-fetched risk of us suddenly tripping and falling, and landing our hearts on the Old Walls…

“And for the first time… for the first time, Anti… even if it was just for a few hours… I felt that I had a family…”

I begin my hundred-metre ascent up this four-hundred-metre-wide hole.

Family, huh…

“Mother… knew you were coming… so she… she… built that b… b… bo… bo…”

“She built that box using the remnants of the People’s Old Walls, Walk, I know…”

The ascent is long and arduous, and it’s not because of the distance.

“Mother… placed the box in the centre… so she could… she could… could… she could…”

“Keep watch over all of you. All eight of you. And she placed the Lord of Stagnation on the golden throne on top of the box. All that she could protect all of you… from the enemy… and me…”

“B-but… Anti, I d- don’t blame you… This is the only way… for us all to be… happy…”

As the natural light of Samsara gradually disappears below, the darkness of the Lightless Field begins to overwhelm. Walk’s Light Machine isn’t as bright as before; just barely enough to light a two-metre radius or so around her. And it’s shimmering.

Hold on, Walk…

“B-but… in the box… I was actually… ex… excited… Anti, I was excited to finally have a… heart-to-heart with those Children, who resembled… me…”

Walk… I’ve done all this, so that all of us can finally be happy…

“Those Children were lovely… so lovely… We laughed… we sang… we cried… we hugged each other and told ourselves that it’s going to be okay… But they were… they were sad… and they were worried about Mother… and they wondered about the reason behind the situation they were in…. and I…”

Walk, I… I…

“… I told them about the Gods… and I told them… of my hypothesis… and that if it were true… the sun… the sun…”

Walk…

“… the sun will set, and it were to never rise again, and we told ourselves… that it’s going to be okay…”

Please…

“But… it was cramped… we couldn’t move around too much… some of us were sitting and lying on each other… b-but… we were okay… We told ourselves that we were okay in that box… for Mother only had our safety in her mind all the time…”

I’m…

“Then we heard… Dream’s and Mother’s voices… we heard… Mother’s screams… at Dream… at Angel…”

I’m sorry…

“The Children… of whom Mother ever so loved… didn’t know how to react… they have never seen this side of Mother before… and they…”

I’m sorry.

“They panicked… They thought Mother was mad at them… And that Mother no longer wanted them… That’s why she locked them in the box… And they were crying and screaming and scratching each other and banging their heads onto the walls… and they wanted to get out… and they wanted to meet the Gods… and the sun is setting… and the sun is setting! And they didn’t know what to do… and they felt like they don’t have a purpose anymore… and that the world is meaningless, and their presence can never change the state of the world… so they…”

I’M SORRY

 

 

 

“… they killed themselves.”

 

 

 

---

Event 3. Twenty-five years before the story started.

- After the creation of the Dusty-Spined Star –

(Angel. Dusty-Spined Star)

There was a Light Curtain. And there was the Angel. And the Angel was outfitted with a long-sleeved neatly tucked fully buttoned grey shirt, a clean pair of grey jeans, and a tightly fitted woven sneakers of the purest grey. There was a thumb-sized image of a white sun on his shirt’s left breast pocket, and a thumb-sized image of a black moon on his shirt’s right breast pocket.

The Angel had long grey hair that is of the silkiest smooth, ending at his shoulders. And the Angel had large feathery wings, spanning five metres. The Angel had a Light Machine emanating Light from his heart. And the Angel had unrivalled strength.

The Angel was destined to be the protector, the walker, the dreamer, and the believer of the world.

The Angel walked on the white sands. He noticed the Cliff of Wake to the west, the Spine of the World, the Island of I, and the Soup of Life surrounding the area. There was nothing to the east.

The Angel held a book with a black leather cover and a white spine with sharp ends. The Angel opened the book. The Angel could not read, because the book had no words.

The Angel has forgotten the purpose of the book.

The Angel traversed the Dusty-Spined Star. The Angel noted the dimensions of everything.

The white sands spanned seven kilometres long and two kilometres wide.

The Cliff of Wake spanned one kilometre in diameter, and ten metres across its peak, which was one hundred metres high.

The Spine of the World was two thousand, nine-hundred, eighty-six metres long. There were thirty-three vertebrae, each ninety metres in length and ten metres in width. There was a gap in between two consecutive vertebrae. Each gap was half a metre. The surface of each vertebra had a thick layer of grey dust. Inside the Spine of the World, there was a tunnel. The tunnel was thus named the Spinal Cord. The Spinal Cord was ten metres in both height and width. It was entirely shrouded in Lightless Field.

The Island of I was twenty-five metres in diameter. There was a large fig tree in the middle. The tree was twenty-five metres tall.

The Soup of Life surrounded the area. The Soup of Life had many colours: red, blue, pink, yellow, green, and everything else. The Angel was afraid of touching the Soup of Life, for the Soup of Life felt like poison.

And the Angel kept track of everything he saw. But there was nothing else he could see, for he has seen everything there was to see.

The Angel tried flying upwards. He collided into an invisible barrier in the sky, named the Comfort Zone. He cannot get past the Comfort Zone.

The Angel wanted to fly away from the white sands, into the vast expanse of the Soup of Life. But he was afraid that he would get lost and never find land again.

The Angel confined himself to the white sands. Soon, he called the sands the Dusty-Spined Star, even though the world named the “Dusty-Spined Star” consists of both the white sands and the Soup of Life surrounding it. Yet to the Angel, his entire world was but an island of white sands.

And the Angel moved back and forth. He slept on the Island of I. He slept on the Spine of the World. He slept on the Cliff of Wake. He slept on the white sands.

Many weeks have passed.

And the Angel remembered his purpose. He had to sweep the dust off the Spine of the World. He had to create a perfect world for the Gods. But the Angel has forgotten how he has obtained that purpose.

The Angel tried sweeping the thick layer of dust off using his hands. The layer never thinned. The Angel felt that the layer of dust was thicker than it was many weeks ago.

The Angel frantically swept using the book in his hands. And the layer has indeed slightly thinned, but only temporarily.

And the Angel saw no way forward.

The Angel sat on the Island of I. He stared into the Spinal Cord, which was filled with Lightless Field. And it seemed like the way forward.

The Lightless Field could never pose a threat to the Angel, for the Angel had the Light Machine in his heart.

Yet the Angel was afraid that he would get lost and never find Light again.

So the Angel did not enter the Spinal Cord. And the Angel sat. And the Angel slept.

Because the Angel believed that he had no way forward. He believed that someone would guide him, or something would happen that would reveal the way forward.

And thus the Angel waited. And waited. For that someone. For that something. For that anomaly.

And in the Angel’s mind, he remembered that he had twenty-five years to fulfil his purpose—to “create a perfect world for all the other Gods”. To him, it was an exceedingly long time.

And the Angel felt that he could rest for a while.

---

- During Antispirit’s and Grey Walker’s ascent up the Cliff of Wake –

(Grey Walker. Cliff of Wake)

So… dark…

Are we still flying upwards… or are we flying eastwards…?

… Do I even care anymore?

Anti has the broom, so…

What were Anti and Dream thinking?

Why were they so… supportive of me?

This dream of mine… to empower the avatars in order to be granted permission to read the book…

Isn’t this just a fancier way of saying that we’ve given up?

It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense. Even Mother’s actions didn’t make sense.

But… do I blame her for what happened?

Do I blame Anti? Or Dream?

Do I blame Angel for reappearing in this world when I thought I could finally ascend towards the top of the Light Curtain and meet the Gods?

But… damn… damn…

I want to cry.

I want to be a baby, so that crying isn’t embarrassing.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaa…

It’s okay, Walk. It’s okay. Nothing actually happened, you see. You simply left Samsara with the broom, and you’re off to fulfilling your dreams.

The Gods at the top of the Light Curtain… they are waiting for you…

There’s nothing to be sad about.

There’s nothing… nothing…

Because once I read the book, I will discover the truth of this world.

Yeah! Every sorrow of this world can be resolved using plain old logic and reason!

Even… even… even…

No no no no no no the book will reveal a truth that could make all the Children alive again won’t it

No no no no no no Walk you are absolutely mistaken the Children are dead you just have to accept it and move on

No no no no no no you haven’t even tried reading the book yet how can you know

No no no no what if after reading the book I realize my hypothesis has been correct all along aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

the world is fucked the world is fucked the world is fucked the world is fucked the world is fucked the world is fucked

“Corals, look, motherfuckers are in the Cord, motherfuckers are in the fucking Cord! Now that Mother’s still fucked, this is our last chance to murder the fuck out of them!”

“People, you will understand that we are not going to harm them. This is a risk-free situation. We already have this world in such degree of control that they simply cannot wish for anything but empowering us! And with our empowerment, the fullest extent of enlightenment can be brought upon this world!”

“Fucking Corals, who the fuck cares about your shitty enl-”

“Hey, Walk, my dear, we’re here.”

… Nothing matters anymore.

I’m here, at the end of the road.

 

 

 

… The end of my grey walk to a meaningless death.

 

 

 

---

Event 4. Twenty-five years before the story started.

- After the Angel saw no way forward –

(Angel. Island of I)

The Angel waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.

The Angel waited under the fig tree on the Island of I. He drifted in and out of sleep. He delved in and out of his dreams.

The Angel knew, deep down, that the Spinal Cord was the way forward.

But the Angel, who had a Light Machine that can shine through all dark, was afraid.

The Angel was afraid of change.

And thus, the Angel rested.

The Angel rested, and rested, and rested, and rested.

As the day became days, and the week became weeks.

And the Angel wondered, whoever shall free him from his self-imposed isolation.

Whoever shall lift him out of his stagnation.

With the book in his hand, the Angel slept.

And every time he woke, he slept.

And every time he had a thought, he slept.

And every time he felt a surge of adrenaline pushing him to venture forth, he slept.

And thus, the Angel slept, and slept, and slept, and slept.

---

- After Grey Mother killed herself and rebirthed into Great Motivation and Ghast Mundane –

(Dreamer. Samsara)

“Wow! Mother got fucked to death! And she was rebirthed into fucking robots! Lame. They don’t even look that fuckable. In fact, it’s all your fault, fucking Corals! They look like they’re gonna fuck us up even worse than Mother!”

“People, you will not be concerned with such trivial matters, for the journey of Grey Walker has almost reached its end, and true enlightenment will be achieved for all.”

“You are disgusting, Corals! So what, we’re just gonna keep getting killed by these two robotic bitches until that happens? Bitch! If everything went our way, the People’s way, then we would’ve spared these poor little saps from their fucking misery, by ki-”

“No, no, no, Underwater People and Philosopher Corals, you are absolutely mistaken. These two gorgeous beings are absolutely not robots! They have names too! Please, introduce yourself, my beauties!”

I expect silence. I was absolutely mistaken. Their lack of response is loudly deafening.

“My beauties? These friendly gentlemen would like to get to know you.”

I don’t even think that they’re actually breathing.

“Ah, you see, these two beauties are absolutely uninterested in you guys!”

… Please don’t do this to me. If you two were a little… livelier, then I wouldn’t have to be the only one trying to make this whole shit less depressing…

Mother, if you’re regretful about what happened, at least… show it a little… You being so indifferent about it just makes everyone and everything a lot sadder…

“Ahem, would it be rude if I- no, we, call you by the name of Great Motivation for the beauty on the left, and Ghast Mundane for the beauty on the right?”

“Oh.”

Holy shit. Mundane actually spoke. I mean, she’s the only one among the two with an uncovered mouth, but holy shit. This is literally the proudest moment of my life.

“So… are you guys okay with it?”

“Oh.”

Her red lips didn’t even move. Her black teeth didn’t even budge.

With a desperate need of approval, I turn towards Angel, who has been standing there being a ghost doing ghostly things and feeling ghostly emotions.

“Hey Angel, you’re the original identity. You cool with those names? I’m basically naming your great-grandchildren, you know.”

And he finally speaks. I nearly forgotten how he sounds like.

“… Yeah, I think.”

“Splendid! Great Motivation and Ghast Mundane! Two of the strongest beings in this world! So, fellow People and Corals, as per our previous discussion, we shall patiently wait for Walk to fulfil her dreams! Oh, how exciting it is to finally achieve eternal happiness under your rule!”

I actually absolutely abhor being so… pretentious. This situation doesn’t warrant for such fake elevated energy.

But the more silent the surroundings, the more…

Dammit. Dream. Remember. Nirvana is soon. Dream. Don’t give up. Don’t fucking give up.

We are so close.

And everyone will be happy…

“Wow, motherfuckers are now named Fucking Motivation and Fuck Munfuck! Wow, Dreamer, your naming capabilities are worse than a motherfucker fucking your Mother!”

“People… sigh. Dreamer, how long do we have to wait, exactly, for the eternal happiness under our rule to manifest itself?”

Honestly? I don’t know. I certainly beg that it’s soon, though.

And I beg that it’ll work.

“I say, within the next hour or so! I am absolutely sure that Walk is highly anticipating the reading of the book, for that is her dream, and her dream is very straightforward! Indeed, all the Angel’s rebirths can only have such simple, easy-to-achieve and absolutely unconvoluted dreams!”

I should really drop the pretentiousness.

“Ah fuck, this is so boring. Yawn. Should’ve just stuffed all of you motherfuckers in that damn box and kill you all.”

“Oh.”

“Stop oh­-ing, you motherfucker! You braindead or something? Here, eat my huge fucking dick!”

A tortoise-flipper holding a blade of Old Wall falls to the ground. The blade did not manage to get closer than one metre to Mundane’s heart.

“Aaaaaaargh shit! Piece of shit! You think that didn’t hurt? You piece of robotic shit! I’ll murder you!”

A tortoise-flipper holding a blade of Old Wall was sliced in six and fell to the ground. The blade did not manage to get closer than one metre to Motivation’s heart.

“Motherfucker! What the fuck are you doing to our kind?! You think you’re so scary because you have four long-ass blades, huh?”

Seventeen tortoise-flippers, each holding a blade of Old Wall, were sliced in seventeen, and fell to the ground. The blades did not manage to aim for the general direction of Motivation’s heart.

Twenty-five fish-heads were sliced in twenty-five and are launched into the air. The heads did not manage to speak one coherent word.

Forty-nine squid-tentacles were sliced in forty-nine and squirmed on the ground. The tentacles did not manage to squirm more than forty-nine metres away from Motivation before dissolving into intangibly small shards of Old Walls.

Seventy cat-eyes were sliced in seventy and evaporated into thin air. The eyes did not manage to witness the general direction of Motivation’s impeding blade before becoming dust.

“Oh.”

 

 

 

Mother… are you okay?

 

 

 

---

Event 5. Fifteen years before the story started.

- After the Angel slept for ten years –

(Angel. Island of I)

The Angel was awoken by loud sounds.

The Angel opened his eyes for the first time in ten years, but his eyes could not open fully, for they have been shut tight due to the thick crust around his eyes.

The Angel spent ten hours scratching and digging the crust off his eyes.

The Angel opened his eyes and saw red objects falling from the sky.

The red objects did not fall onto the Island of I, or the Spine of the World, or the Cliff of Wake.

The red objects pummelled the white sands below the Island with such loudness that it reverberation is akin to rapid thunderstorms striking continuously.

The Angel focused on the red objects. He understood that the red objects are skinless human corpses of varying sizes, shapes, and structures.

The Angel was afraid.

The Angel was no longer afraid after staring at the falling corpses for ten hours. He ascertained that the corpses will never fall onto him.

The Angel was annoyed, as he was sure it was his imagination.

“Bloody Rain…”

And thus, the Angel slept, and slept, and slept, and slept.

And the Bloody Rain poured, and poured, and poured, and poured.

---

- After Great Motivation began her massacre of the Underwater People –

(Dreamer. Samsara)

“Great Motivation, you will stop your senseless killing of the People! To brutally murder one of them because they attempted to stab you was perfectly understandable, but a hundred peace-loving beings now lay dead under your hands!”

One hundred gorilla-bodies were sliced in one hundred and bounced on the ground. The bodies did not manage to preserve any unsliced organs nor unsliced bones.

“Great Motivation, you will stop right now!”

The middle of the Corals’ tentacles swell to five metres in radius. In one synchronized barf, Lightless Field as dense as the Abyss were regurgitated in all directions. I worry for a moment, for Walk has long left this place.

“Oh.”

And I no longer worry, for the dark cloud turbulently enters the thin slits at the end of Mundane’s armoured “arms”, which are still in their natural positions beside her hips. The blinded, heavily armoured woman has yet to move an inch.

“Oh.”

Two-hundred and fifty red tentacles were sliced in two-hundred and fifty and evaporated into Lightless Field which were then vacuumed by Mundane. The tentacles did not manage to leave even one particle of the Field behind.

And the massacre continues for an hour.

There were hundreds of thousands of People and Corals in this cave. There are only one People and one Coral now.

“What the fuck, Coral? Look at what your fucking pursuit of enlightenment has brought to us! We birthed fucking monsters! We should’ve killed them in that box! We sh-”

“People, you will understand that the enlightenment has been a success, and that the dangerously suicidal and toxic-minded Grey Mother has been enlightened into the forms we see before us! They only attacked because you decided that it was ‘fun’ to try and sta-”

And the massacre left behind nothing. Not even visible remnants of Old Walls, for the People’s body parts were sliced so unnecessarily thinly and precisely that they left no shards behind.

I expect a comment. I expect a sigh of relief. I expect a sigh of exhaustion.

Nothing.

The two armoured beings simply… stand there. They are not even facing each other, or side by side; they simply remain in the last position that they took when dealing with the last People and Coral.

Statues. They are lifeless statues.

No victorious moments. No mental breakdowns.

It’s like, they only exist not to protect this world.

They only exist… to protect themselves…

 

 

 

Because Mother… she couldn’t protect her heart…

 

 

 

---

Event 6. Fifteen years before the story started.

- After the Angel witnessed the Bloody Rain and slept –

(Angel. Island of I)

And the Bloody Rain kept pouring, heavier and heavier, day by day.

Yet, it was as if there were a roof above the Island of I, the Spine of the World, and the Cliff of Wake, for the corpses have never once desecrated those places.

As the marching beats of millions of corpses hitting the ground grew louder and louder, the Angel slept deeper and deeper.

And the Angel dreamed that he could shield his home from anyone who tried to rid him of his inner peace.

And the Angel dreamed that he could move the world forward, and upward, despite insurmountable despair and disappointments.

And the Angel dreamed that he could become one with the world and appease the internal conflicts of the world of his heart.

And the Angel dreamed that he could rewrite the world such that a happy ending can be achieved for all.

For the Angel was the protector, the walker, the dreamer, and the believer of the world. Yet, despite all that…

 

 

 

… the Angel dreamed that he was no longer alone.

 

 

 

---

- After Antispirit and Grey Walker flew out of Samsara and made it to the Island of I –

(Grey Walker. Island of I)

The sky is blue. The sun is bright. The clouds are still.

There are no birds flying around. There are no eagles soaring high.

And the mark of dirt I’ve left on the fig tree from the last time I kicked it still rears its ugly face.

The roses are red. The violets are blue.

The grass is green.

And the rocks are grey.

The roses are grey. The violets are grey.

The grass is grey.

And my walk of grey has finally reached its destination.

But is it really that simple?

I am lowered to the ground. I stand up. The shaded man with long black hair smiles at me.

I am on a vertebra of the Spine. The Lord’s Spine and the book, which have conjoined into the book, is on the thick layer of grey dust on the Spine.

And the book is no longer on the thick layer of grey dust, for a circle of dust-free region forms around it, revealing the true colours of the Spine.

White.

White, as my Light Machine.

White, as the immovable sun.

White, as the outfit of the suited man in front of me.

White, as one of the flowers of the flower-shirted being standing in a distance, on the Island.

Why is the being always around, somehow?

The flower-shirted being is staring at me again.

Disappointedly.

A soft whisper.

“Ruined… The perfect world is ruined… It’s all your fault, Grey Walker…”

And the flower-shirted being disappears, as if having given up all hope.

“Walk, just take your time, it’s alright.”

And the muscular man sits to the right of the broom, on a still-dusty region. He peers out the edge of the Spine, gazing at a distance.

He takes out a cigarette. The surface is white.

He lights the cigarette. The ashes that fall are grey.

He breathes in. He breathes out. The smoke is black.

“Hey, dear, want one?”

… Sigh.

I walk towards him. I sit beside him, cross-legged. He hands me a stick. I press the tip with my lips. He lights the other end. The lighter’s surface is white.

I cough twice. My throat itches.

“Take it slow, my dear. Breathe it in completely, using your diaphragm, and feel the beautiful smoke wholly enter the vastness of your lungs, and hold it in, let it sink.”

I breathe in. Slowly. Fully. I feel a calm sense of fullness in my chest. I feel all my stress, all my pain and suffering and doubts and insecurities, bottled within the universe of my lungs.

“Now, open your mouth and let it out, naturally, not forcefully, as if all the despair in your heart is being gradually released, slowly blending into the banality of this world.”

And all my misery turns into smoke, aimlessly wandering in the midst of the beautiful stillness of the sky, becoming one with the clouds and the sun and the tree and the flowers and the rocks. The smoke is grey.

“How does it feel, dear?”

As the world is painted grey and my path is painted grey.

As my heart is tainted grey and my skin is tainted grey.

As life can only answer in grey in a perfect world of black and white…

 

 

 

… a tear greyly flows down my cheek.

 

 

 

---

Event 7. Two years before the story started.

- After the Angel slept for thirteen more years –

(Angel. Island of I)

The Angel was awoken due to a severe numbness in his right arm.

However, the crust on the Angel’s eyes were so thick that his eyelids turned into stone.

The sound of the Bloody Rain was so loud and heavy that it became like white noise, before becoming silence.

The Angel has forgotten what true silence felt like.

As the Angel has been resting his head on his right arm, he tried to move his head.

However, his head was numb and immovable.

The Angel tried to use his left arm to move his head.

However, his left arm was numb and immovable.

The Angel tried to use his legs to rotate his body so that he could be lying on his back.

However, his legs were numb and immovable.

The Angel was saddened, and he wanted to cry.

However, his tears could not flow, as the crust on the Angel’s eyes were so thick that his eyelids turned into stone.

---

- After Antispirit and Grey Walker smoked while peering out the Spine of the World –

(Grey Walker. Spine of the World)

How ironic, for the very book that I revere so much, the very same book that will answer the question of the world’s purpose, and the meaning of my life…

… I will be dragging the pages of that very same holy book across the dustiest surface in the world…

… permanently tainting its pristine pages with the world’s rotten dust.

I mean, it’s actually rather beautiful when I think of it.

It wasn’t that long ago when I walked this Spine as the Angel. Just the both of us.

And I did what I had to do.

I had to find out who murdered me.

To say that Dream or Father murdered me has always been an oversimplification.

The flower-shirted being murdered me.

Such power. Such might. The being could only be one of the Gods. There can be no other reason.

But if the being is one of the Gods, then why do I sense such fear from him?

It’s as if he is so afraid of the other Gods, that he was so focused on creating a “perfect world” for them.

But… why? Why only invite the other Gods into this world after twenty-five years?

Is he so disappointed by the weaknesses of this world?

Perfection… he only wanted perfection…

But if he was so adamant about achieving a perfect world before inviting the Gods into this world, then why…

… why am I still trying my damnedest to walk this world forward, and upward?

What is my purpose of resuming this grey walk to the end?

Is it… such a sin… to find my life’s purpose…?

Not the purpose of my life… a purpose…

Just… any purpose at all…

Even if my purpose is to die, at least that is a purpose…

I just didn’t want to be alone…

And the two times I felt wanted was…

… when Father and I were on the Island, and the Light Curtain came down from the sky, signifying the second coming of the Angel…

… and when I took a peek at the top of the Light Curtain, I saw… I saw…

… the faces of the Gods…

… they were looking at me, and there was so much hope in their eyes…

… as if… they wanted me to be there… as if they’re inviting me…

… and that… gave me hope.

… and the second time was… during my time in the Angel.

Just the Angel and me. And I gave him a purpose in this world. I walked the grey path to the Island of I in his place.

And look at what happened after Dream stabbed Angel.

He became… a literal empty shell. Full of confusion. Full of uncertainty.

I drove him forward, for I am the eternal Grey Walker of the Angel.

And there will be no more sorrow.

No more uncertainty.

For the book will be the end-all of everything.

The book will finally give us a purpose. The book will finally give me a purpose.

And the book will…

… be the end of me.

For this is my hypothesis.

I, the Grey Walker of this world, is destined to walk this world towards the path of the Gods.

But the flower-shirted being didn’t want that. He was afraid of the other Gods.

So, he commanded us, the Angel, to build a “perfect world for the other Gods”.

Trying to bury the flaws of this world.

And the root cause of the world’s suffering will never be addressed.

And the other Gods will never understand the pains of this world.

And the poisons of this world will be akin to an everlasting rain of bloodied teardrops from the heart.

A cycle of suffering. A death and rebirth of the self, and the world.

Samsara.

And if I am right… I can no longer save this world anymore, for my purpose of being no longer prevails.

I… will just be an obstacle in the path towards a “perfect world”.

Sigh.

 

 

 

I am sorry, Angel, for your Grey Walker has failed you.

 

 

 

In the beginning, Grey Walker stood on the Spine of the World. Now the Spine of the World was dusty and dispirited, and a traumatizing Lightless Field was underneath the surface, the Spinal Cord.

And Grey Walker said, “Let dreams be fulfilled through my sweeping of the Spine,” and there was a sweep. Grey Walker saw that the sweep emitted the brightest Light, and the sky was filled with Light.

And with the Light, poured the Bloody Rain. Grey Walker saw that the Bloody Rain was good, and called out, “Let the avatars of the Gods above the Comfort Zone be welcomed with open arms.” And the corpses that were pouring down were welcomed to the world—the first day.

And Grey Walker said, “Let the avatars of the Gods above the Comfort Zone rain down in droves exceeding all that has been seen before, with the exception of the Island of I, the Spine of the World, and the Cliff of Wake.” And the avatars of Gods rained down in droves exceeding all that has been seen before, with the exception of the Island of I, the Spine of the World, and the Cliff of Wake—the second day.

Then Grey Walker said, “Let the avatars of the Gods above the Comfort Zone exert their fullest control over this world, and for as long as they exert their fullest control over this world, to be henceforth only to be referred to as the name ‘Your Highness Our Saviour Who Lived Only Beautiful Lives in the Holy Monarch of Our True Selves’ in name, spirit, and might, to only be shortened to Our True Selves.” And henceforth the avatars of Gods shall only be spoken in name, spirit, and might as Your Highness Our Saviour Who Lived Only Beautiful Lives in the Holy Monarch of Our True Selves, to only be shortened to Our True Selves—the third day.

Then Grey Walker said, “Let Our True Selves be made of the strongest Old Walls and the most potent Lightless Field.” And both existing Our True Selves and all arriving Our True Selves were made using the strongest Old Walls and the most potent Lightless Field—the fourth day.

And Grey Walker said, “Let Our True Selves be fated to enlighten this world with the inherent beliefs and ideals of Our True Selves, in which the words will spread far and wide across the Dusty-Spined Star.” And the inherent beliefs and ideals of Our True Selves were fated to spread far and wide across the Dusty-Spined Star, enlightening all that is within of the inherent beliefs and ideals of Our True Selves—the fifth day.

And Grey Walker said, “Let Our True Selves be forever empowered and holy and live only beautiful lives, for as long as the book can be read and fully understood by Grey Walker.” And Grey Walker saw Light emanating from the book, as the book weighed heavier than before, and Our True Selves were to forever be empowered and holy and live only beautiful lives, for as long as the book can be read and fully understood by Grey Walker—the sixth day.

By the seventh day Grey Walker had finished the work she had been doing; so on the seventh day Grey Walker rested from all her work.

---

Event 8. Forty-nine weeks before the story started.

- After the Angel slept for two more years –

(Angel. Island of I)

The Angel was awoken due to a sudden lack of sound.

The Bloody Rain has stopped.

The Angel tried to sleep, but could no longer sleep for there was no longer any sound.

The Angel was filled with panic, for the silence was deafening to his ears.

The Angel suffered from severe migraines, however he relished the pain, for he could no longer feel anything from any other parts of his body.

The migraines felt like a thousand stabs into his brain, yet the Angel cherished it, for he knew that he was alive.

And because the Angel was alive, it was possible to escape the silence.

And because the Angel was alive, it was possible to escape the loneliness of only hearing his heartbeats.

And because the Angel was alive, it was possible for him to eventually open his crusted eyes.

Thus, the weight of the world’s silence and the numbness of his entire body has driven the Angel to try and force his eyelids open using his barely functional eye muscles.

 

 

 

And the Angel took comfort in the migraines that have never left him, unlike everyone else.

 

 

 

---

- After Great Motivation and Ghast Mundane massacred the Underwater People and Philosopher Corals, just before Grey Walker swept the Spine of the World –

(Dreamer. Samsara)

The silence is deafening.

The cave is empty, other than Angel, me, and those two.

And a realization hits me. How will they be able to fulfil their dreams?

Do they even want to fulfil their dreams?

Do they even have dreams?

There’s a reason why I descended to this cave instead of just waiting for Anti on the Island while he retrieves the Lord’s Spine from Mother. I was supposed to be the one to bring Mother to the Spine. Anti and I expected an aggressive response from her, and I was supposed to somehow convince her that her dreams of protecting this world could be achieved simply by sweeping the Spine. Maybe add in a little bit of calming her down and being her punching bag in the mix. But it shouldn’t be too difficult.

But this situation is difficult.

I doubt they would even want to leave this cave if their lives aren’t concerned.

And as far as I’m concerned, their lives will never be concerned.

It all depends on Walk now.

There’s a reason why Anti and I planned for a specific sequence to sweep the Spine, starting with Walk.

The enemy is strong, that is without a doubt. And the power of the Angel has been split into four, which means that neither of us could simply dream for the end of the enemy and expect them to just poof out of existence.

The Angel actually had the ability to do that, but he didn’t. And now we need to pick the fucking scraps from his choice not to do shit about his life.

I realize I have been subconsciously glaring at the Angel. If I were Mother, I would’ve really beat the ever-loving shit out of him.

I sigh.

There’s no point, isn’t it? Because in the end, it’s our fault, isn’t it?

Grey Mother. Grey Walker. Dreamer. Antispirit. We all have different dreams and personalities, don’t we?

We are the cause of the Angel’s internal conflict.

We are the protector, the walker, the dreamer, and the believer of the Angel, and the world… and we failed.

… It’s depressing.

I can only wait.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

And the Bloody Rain pours from the ceiling of the cave.

She did it. She actually did it.

Although, with the situation surrounding the white box, I don’t think Anti actually needed to convince her to do anything.

Thousands of bloodied, skinless corpses fall from the ceiling and pummel the hard rocky ground.

The ceiling is thinning. In the aboveground, those damn bloodied corpses die and rebirth into People and Corals, absorbing the Soup of Life from the world, slowly sapping away the world’s Soup and ridding the world of its integrity.

I have to take cover.

Dammit, I planned for Mother to slash away all the corpses that are falling on us, but Great Motivation and Ghast Mundane aren’t the least bit concerned about Angel and I, as only the corpses falling directly onto either one of them are slashed away.

Slashed away. Motivation’s blades are no longer going through the corpses’ thickened skin.

Which means I really need to take cover. Shit. Where?

… The white box.

Fuck. Do I really have to go in there?

I drag Angel by the hand. I pull him towards the box. We are closing in the hole.

“Ah!”

Oh dammit, there’s still those Soup… huh. But dammit, is “ah!” really the only response you can make to your feet melting?

I shove him into the box. More ah’s and ow’s.

“Hey Angel, sorry, but… oh! There’s a spot on the corner without Soup on the ground! Go stand there.”

He stands in the corner, while I stand in the middle. Two and a half metres of space isn’t that big, but I guess two people’s fine. Dammit, how did the eight of them fit into this box, though? Mother, seriously?

And I try my fucking best not to think about what exactly happened in this box.

At least… all the Children’s heads have finally mel- BREATHE, DREAM, BREATHE!

It doesn’t take long for the cave to be littered with a million corpses, and with a million corpses comes a million Underwater People and a million Philosopher Corals.

“Hey, hey, hey, motherfuckers! Guess who’s back from the dead! Aww, look at you piece of shit, hiding from us in this fucking box with a fucking big hole on this side! Guess what, Dreamer, we’re invincible now!”

From my viewpoint, which is restricted by the size of the box’s hole, I can still see Motivation and Mundane just standing there at a distance of about seven metres from each other, both about twenty-five metres from the box, only reacting to any corpses that so happen to fall within a vertical distance of one metre from them.

“Hey Corals, what the fuck are you doing? We should be killing those two robots with our newfound strength, like, now!”

Shit. My initial plan was for Mother to stay beside me while I stall the enemy’s time, but those two are so far away.

And they may be strong, but are they stronger than these empowered aliens?

I just need to stall enough time…

Until the eventuality happens.

“No, no, no, People, you are absolutely mistaken! Motivation and Mundane will never lay their hands on you, provided you do not lay your hands on them first. So, it will be much wiser for us to actually ta-”

“Shut the fuck up. Shut. The. Fuck. Up! You lost your leverage, Dreamer! I don’t know what you expected when you bullshitted about us ruling this world and you shits some living some eternal happiness shit under our rule, but I spit on your happiness!”

Shit. Dammit, I’m already struggling to think about how I’m going to make them sweep the Spine, but if they actually die, there will be four identities that I need to deal with. Shit.

“By the way, motherfucker, from here on you shall only refer to us as Your Highness Our Saviour Who Lived Only Beautiful Lives in the Holy Monarch of Our True Selves, and it is can only be shortened to Our True Selves. Get it? Bitch.”

Our True Selves, huh… Walk, you’re seeing something about this world that we could not, right?

… The truth of this world.

“Our True Selves. Amazing! How amazing! Truly, you guys, as Our True Selves, will certainly be able to enlighten us to be our true selves! And I’m absolutely sure that Great Motivation and Ghast Mundane over there would love to be enlightened to be their true selves!”

“Ah, it’s been a while, Dreamer. How has it been going? As my… acquaintance has spoken, we shall now no longer be called the Underwater People or the Philosopher Corals by inhabitants of this world, you included. Indeed, as Our True Selves, we will certainly enlighten you, all of you, Great Motivation and Ghast Mundane included!”

“What the fuck, Corals? What the fuck is this enlightenment? We have them cornered, and we have this excess of power, so let’s fucking kill them and kill all their rebirths and trap the remaining in some box and make Soup out of them or something!”

“People, you will understand the philosophy of Grey Walker’s chosen name, for she named us Our True Selves because she understood what we stand for! We are here to enlighten this world and revert this world to its true self! Just look at how successful we were in reverting Grey Mother to her true selves! Those ‘robots’ that you mentioned are indeed the truest forms of Mother! However, because they massacred us the last time we were here, they may need another session of enlightenment.”

“Fucking hell, Corals! Are you a motherfucker, too? You must be a motherfucker, because you think like a motherfucker! Grey Walker named us Our True Selves because we have the ability to kill all of them all off and create a new true self for this world! As the world is too weak to discover its true self, it is up to us to create a true self for the world!”

“People, you will understand that your definition of true self is nothing more than a pretentious lie! You will tell me, what is so ‘true’ about the ‘self’ that you are to create for them? Based on your principle, you are simply killing all that the world stood for, and all the world’s inherent identities and philosophies, just so that you can remake the world in the shape of you and make it believe that it is its true self!”

“Motherfuckers! You are a true motherfucker from ground up! This world already understood that it can never be accepted by the Gods, and it is giving us the permission to reshape it according to our ideals and principles! In essence, this new true self will allow the world to finally be a part of us! Now, Corals, you motherfuckers, as we’ve mentioned before, your ‘enlightenment’ is simply a more acceptable replacement for the word ‘brainwash’!”

“People, you will see that you have contradicted yourselves. Again, the phrase ‘new true self’ in itself is as senseless as your thought process! There is no such thing as a ‘new true self’, there is only a ‘true self’, and that the true self of everyone, you and I included, have been set in stone ever since the very day we were born! And to fully control this world through enlightenment is to fully reveal the ‘true self’ of this world!”

“Shut the fuck up, Corals. Shut. The. Fuck. Up! To fully control this world is to ensure that the deaths of this world’s inhabitants are full, absolute, and irreversible. Have you not been listening to how these motherfuckers have been lamenting about this endless cycle of death and rebirth for the longest time? Now that we have fully controlled this world, we will help them end this senseless cycle!”

How many days have passed? How many weeks have passed? Time flies stilly in this world.

“People, you will eliminate yourself of such radical thoughts, now! The cycle of death and rebirth will end when the world reverts to its true self, for deaths and rebirths are no longer required because the true self has already been achieved! People, this senseless argument is getting nowhere!”

Yeah. It’s getting nowhere. Getting nowhere is good.

“Yeah, motherfuckers, it’s getting nowhere. So, let’s start our enlightenment of this world, by killing those robot bitches!”

Oh shit, it’s a little too ear- Oh.

Motivation has her blade halfway through one of the fishes’ head. Not all the way, but better than just bouncing off the skin.

“What the fuck, Corals, they are not supposed to harm us, because we have the strongest Old Walls! What the fuck did that Walker bitch do to us?”

“People, it is entirely and absolutely your fault. Grey Walker’s condition for our empowerment is only so long as we exert the fullest control over this world. However, it is because you try to go against us and deny the enlightenment of this world, that we are in this weaker position. People, you will retract your foul statements immediately!”

“Fuck your mothers, Corals! You retract your senseless statements, now! Look! The robotic bitch has murdered one of us now. Are you proud of yourself, Corals?! The bitch has murdered us, the rulers of this world! And you, robotic bitch, don’t think you’re so great and almighty just because you managed to kill just one out of a million of us! Eat shit!”

Another fish-head gets decapitated halfway. As some already have had their heads hang by their necks, most of the People and Corals are still stuck in their senseless argument.

As the current situation is looking brighter by the second, my mind instinctively wanders to the one that’s obsessed with finding her true self.

Walk, as much as you sought the book to justify your life’s purpose and find your true self…

 

 

 

I’m starting to think that the book may reveal to you some things that… you may never want to know.

 

 

 

---

Event 9. Forty-seven weeks before the story started.

- After the Angel tried to force his eyelids open for two weeks –

(Angel. Island of I)

After two weeks, the Angel managed to force his eyelids open. However, due to the thickness and dryness of the crust and its unyielding adhesion onto his eyelids, the extensive friction as a result of forcing them open has completely torn the fragile skin of his eyelids apart, causing him to bleed from the eyes.

The Angel could see, but his surroundings were all red due to his blood. The pain was excruciating, and the Angel wanted to scream, but he has forgotten how to use his voice.

The Angel was still facing the fig tree, lying on his long-useless right hand. The tree was red. The grass was red. The rocks were red.

The roses were red. The violets were red.

The blood in the Angel’s eyes were washed away by his free-flowing tears.

The roses were red. The violets were blue.

And the Angel was happy. The Angel was so, so happy.

And the Angel was so, so sad.

And the Angel was so, so alone, for the sound from the Bloody Rain has long been gone.

The Angel only wanted to see the sun.

The Angel hoped that the sun would give meaning to his existence.

And the Angel tried to roll to the left, but his body was in a perfect equilibrium of weight and gravity.

The Angel was in a position where his entire body faced the right, his head laid on his stretched-out right hand, his left-hand placed palms-down on his left hip, his right thigh bent upwards to a quarter of its way to his chest, and his left knee bent backwards three-quarters of its way to his pelvis.

And the Angel knew that all he needed was to move his left hand, which was on his left hip, just slightly more to the left, as it will fall off his left hip, and gravity will pull it to the ground.

And that force should be sufficient to roll his whole body to the left, so that he could face the sun.

And he tried to move his left hand further left, but he overdid it, for he has underestimated how fast his body has healed due to the newfound hope he gained from finally opening his eyes.

And his left hand was launched far to the left. So, so far. He rolls to the left with such intensity. However, as his left knee was bent three-quarters of its way to his pelvis, the roll caused him left upper thigh to lay on his now entirely bent left leg, and the lack of equilibrium of that position, combined with the inertia of his launched left hand, combined with the reduced friction of the ground due to him lying on a puddle of his blood, sweat, and tears, caused him to continue rolling to the left.

And the Angel rolled, and rolled, and rolled, and rolled.

And the Angel rolled off the Island of I.

And the Angel fell, and fell, and fell, and fell, with the book in his hands.

And the Angel slammed into the white sands.

And the white sands were no longer white sands, but black asphalt.

And the black asphalt was no longer black asphalt, but red asphalt with every single one of the Angel’s bodily organs arranged haphazardly on, inside, in between, and under each other.

---

- After Grey Walker swept the Spine of the World –

(Grey Walker. Spine of the World)

The seventh day.

Has it really been seven days?

The Bloody Rain will never stop pouring. It pours heavier than the Bloodiest Rain during the time when Father and I jumped into the Light Curtain.

This is the Bloodiest Rain. The deluge of corpses is so strong, so heavy, so loud, and yet it only pours onto everywhere that is not the Island, Spine, and the Cliff.

I do not seek distractions during my reading of the book, which has been disconnected from the Lord’s Spine and lay stably on my lap.

Our True Selves do not need to enlighten me, for my true self lies completely within this book.

Such fine, fine black leather…

Such a beautifully sharp, gorgeously white, flawlessly rigid spine…

And on the cover, the three words printed in the plainest white font finally manifested itself, carrying with them more symbolism than everything else in this world.

 

 

 

The Revenant’s Code.

 

 

 

The book feels heavier than before, as if the words have finally manifested within, as if the words carry the weight of this world in its alphabets and numbers and symbols…

… as if… the book is meant to be a code… where its true meaning has to be painstakingly deciphered from all the farcical noise and pretentious metaphors…

“So, you finally did it, dear. How does it feel?”

The long-haired man has not moved from his sitting position on the Spine, with his left leg lying folded on the ground, his right leg bent with his knees facing upwards, and both palms pressed onto the ground behind him, supporting his weight.

And I can’t help but notice that the Spine isn’t exactly… clean yet. The layer of dust has obviously thinned, but the only true dust-free region still remains at a one-metre radius from wherever the book is placed.

And since the book is on my lap, I am sitting directly on the purest, cleanest, most untainted surface of the Spine.

“I don’t know, actually. But I guess... something has changed. Maybe a little relieved, I think?”

A smile s drawn across Anti’s chiselled face.

“Heh, it isn’t that difficult now, is it? This world truly gave us the power to fulfil our dreams simply by sweeping the Spine, and we just… well, we couldn’t get our shit together.”

I look at Anti. I look at the book. I look at Anti again.

“Are you guys really okay with it? Dream and you were both supporting my dream, so… you two actually sought for this outcome?”

Echoes of grey smoke seep out of Anti’s chiselled lips.

“It will only get better from here, my dear. Ah, you see, my brother Dream had this revelation where the Angel was weak because, as I’ve just said, we couldn’t get our shit together. Mother, you, Dream, and I, we all… fought in the Angel. I mean, it’s not that bad once we’ve been manifested as physical identities, but that’s because we are now actually seeing each other, face-to-face, and our conflicts are no longer just… thoughts arguing with one another.”

Anti pauses for a moment.

“The Island, the Spine, and the Cliff are all free of those beings, right? Including the Spinal Cord below us?”

I nod.

“Great! Phew, finally. So, Walk, you’ve been hearing the word ‘Nirvana’ a lot from us, haven’t you?”

I nod.

“Do you truly understand the meaning of the word, and the context that we have been using?”

I shake my head.

“You see, Nirvana is the release from Samsara, which is the beginningless and endless cycle of death and rebirth, which is both mundane and painful, as all of us have unfortunately experienced. Yet, the Angel was perfect in every way. He had feathery wings, he had the Light Machine, and he had the strength. The Angel, in the most realistic sense, could never die. So, why did he kill himself?”

“Because he managed to read that one line in the book; that one line that we could no longer read since then.”

The one line… that is the first sentence to a book littered in gibberish code.

“Ah, that’s just the trigger, my dear. Why couldn’t he accept the truth that was written in the book? It’s because of his mental conflicts; the conflicts that stemmed from, well, us. Looking further back, why did he enter the Tower in the first place, instead of entering the Cord, of which he knew was the path forward? Because he wanted company. Why did he want company? Because he was alone. Why was he alone? Because he didn’t understand his true self.”

Anti pauses again.

“Why didn’t he understand his true self? Because of the four of us, Walk. He was in such a deep state of inner turbulence that guided the chain of events up till today.”

I’m beginning to understand.

“So, he killed himself, and rebirthed into Fatherson Spirit and Spirit of Mother. Why did Spirit of Mother lose to the enemy? It was not because she was distracted by her concern over Father’s safety, it was because of Mother and you, Walk. Mother was conflicted in between wanting to protect all of us, and feeling as if no one can ever understand her. You were conflicted in between wanting to walk this world forward and upwards, and wondering about the purpose of the world.”

The brothers really thought through all this?

“And on the Island, Father killed himself not merely because of losing Mother, but because of Dream and I. Dream was conflicted in between wanting the world to be at peace, and the insecurities of his ability to help the world achieve eternal happiness—Nirvana, and I was conflicted in between my infallible belief in wanting to rewrite this world so that we can finally chase that smile, and… and…”

I move myself two metres to the right. It’s out of instinct; I don’t know what to do.

I embrace him, burying his head within the warmth of my sweater.

 

 

 

“… my fear… of us never being happy ever again…”

 

 

 

In the midst of the Bloodiest Rain around us, we are simply two lonely people seeking refuge under the warmth of the immovable sun.

“… Sorry.”

And on the seventh day, we rest, together.

A rest… from the rain that will never fall onto us.

A rest… from the code that will never be properly deciphered.

A rest… from the incessant chase of a faraway smile…

 

 

 

… A rest… from the possible suicide of this world.

 

 

 

“So, that’s why, Walk, I sincerely hope that you’ll be able to fulfil your dreams, and that reading the book truly does give you the answers you seek.”

With Anti beside me wrapping his left hand around my shoulders, and the book still on my lap, I slowly sink into the comfort of the dustless ground.

“So, after this is done, it will be Dream’s, Mother’s, and your turn to fulfil your dreams?”

Anti smilingly nods.

“And after that… we will all be happy.”

“Okay, so I’ll start reading, then. You will only be able to see empty pages, though.”

“That’s fine, Walk. I just want to feel it. Your true emotions. I want to see your dream fulfilled, and all your doubts answered.

I look at his eyes.

“Do you mine taking off your shades for a moment?”

He chuckles. He removes his shades using his right hand. His irises are of the purest black and his sclerae are of the purest white. Yet, they aren’t fully opened, with a clear black rim circling the perimeters. It’s as if he’s still wearing shades.

“You look exhausted, Anti.”

 He chuckles, almost tiredly.

“Always have been, dear. I just… don’t like to show it.”

 

 

 

The Revenant’s Code.

I flip the cover of the book.

Indeed, the first page has been filled to the brim with words.

Words that I have yet to come across, other than the first line.

But these are words that I understand. These are written in plain old English.

I can understand everything. There is nothing to be deciphered.

And I read. And I read.

And I keep reading.

And… wait a minute.

… My hypothesis was… right…

… I didn’t want to believe it, but…

I was hoping that…

Why… why are you doing this… to yourself…?

This sort of code… it can never be deciphered.

It can… never be understood!

It is not just a code.

It is

reality

a new reality

a failed attempt at a perfect world

but but but

why

what is this

why are you doing this to yourself

whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy

why are you so afraid why are you so afraid why are you so afraid why are you so AFRAID

YOU CAN NEVER save YOURSELF AT this rate

useless

no purpose no purpose nO

THEY WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND THIS THEY WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND THIS GODDAMN CODE YOU PIECE OF SH

you keep thinking that the GODS are ALMIGHTY that is why you wanted a PERFECT WORLD why are you so afraid why are you so afraid the gods really are simply…………………

YOU WILL REALLY DIE AT THIS RATE YOU PIECE OF SH

extremely disappointed i AM EXTREMELY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU it’s going to be okay it’s going to be okay it’s going to be okay it’s going to be okay the gods are simply the gods are simply

 

 

 

THE

 

 

 

GODS

 

 

 

ARE

 

 

 

(Antispirit.)

What the fuck?!

Walk, she…

She suddenly ran and…

She…

She jumped off the fucking Spine.

 

 

 

---

Event 10. Forty-six weeks before the story started.

- After the Angel fell off the Island of I –

(Angel. City of Sleep)

 

 

 

The Angel was in pain.

And for a moment, the Angel felt that he should just kill himself to put an end to all his pain.

 

 

 

---

- After Grey Walker jumped off the Spine of the World –

(Antispirit. Spine of the World)

Hey, it’s going to be okay.

Hey, everything will be fine.

Hey, it’s all going to be alright.

Hey, man. Hey. It’s cool.

Hey Walk, you’re cool, right?

When you were on the Island with Father, you jumped to your death, too, yet you survived.

But you didn’t really want to die, right?

I knew it. Dream and I knew it. You saw that pillar of light—the Light Curtain, and it gave you hope.

And you lived on, within the Angel.

Hey Walk, it’s the same case now, isn’t it?

You saw… you saw hope in the City of Sleep, and that was why you jumped down to it?

I mean, that’s surely the case, for you can never die… right?

You will never end your own life… right?

Hey Walk, I’m flying down, now. I’m flying down to get you.

Hey Walk, I’m coming. I’m coming to get you.

 

 

 

Hey Walk, why are you still Soup?

Hey Walk…

Hey…

You definitely ran off to somewhere far, far away, haven’t you?

Hey Walk, where did you run off to?

Hey…

Hey… Walk…

… why are you still Soup?

Why are you…

 

 

 

… melting into the ground?

 

 

 

where are you

where are you Walk

why

why leave me

why leave me alone

Walk come back

Please

Please

 

 

 

COME BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

 

 

 

Hey, Anti, Walk will come back, won’t she?

Hey man, it didn’t seem as if she wanted to come back.

Hey, Anti, but she accomplished her dream, didn’t she?

Hey, nothing’s permanent anyway.

Hey Anti, you’re going to rewrite the world anyway.

Hey Anti, you can bring her back.

Hey, this is what she wanted, right?

Hey Anti, you better hide somewhere, because Mother and Dream will be coming here soon.

Hey Anti, Mother might kill you for this.

Hey Anti, everything will be fine.

Hey Anti, it’s going to be okay.

Hey Anti, what about you use the book to make a hole underneath the Island?

Hey Anti, Mother wouldn’t be able to spot you there, and you get front-row seat to everything.

Hey Anti, Mother will kill you for this.

Hey, I don’t think I want a front-row seat anymore.

Hey Anti, then you wouldn’t know when it’s your turn to sweep the Spine.

Hey, what was in that book, actually?

Hey Anti, what about you use the book to make a hole underneath the Island?

Hey Anti, you can bring her back.

Hey Anti, you’re going to rewrite the world anyway, and everyone will be happy again.

Hey Anti, it’s going to be okay.

Hey Anti, maybe if Mother killed you for this, things would get better.

Hey Anti, are you happy? Did you really not predict this outcome?

Hey Anti, why are you hiding? Are you that afraid of Mother? Just let her kill you already.

Hey Anti, you’re going to make everyone happy, aren’t you?

Hey Anti.

Hey

 

 

 

IT’S GOING TO BE OKAY

 

 

 

---

Event 11. Forty-four weeks before the story started.

- Two weeks after the Angel fell off the Island of I –

(Angel. City of Sleep)

The Angel told himself, “It’s going to be okay.”

And the Angel was whole again. All the Angel’s pain has subsided. All the Angel’s numbness has vanished.

And the Angel looked towards the sky, and he saw the Island floating above him, just almost too rightwards from his view. From the uppermost and bottommost of his view, several white blocks could be perceived. He felt a burning sense of roughness on his back, and he was certain that if not for his shirt, his back would have been scalded by the heat.

As the Angel could finally feel his arms, he used both arms to push himself up to a sitting position. He felt so happy that he shed a tear. He observed his surroundings. Rows of white cuboids between twelve to twenty-five metres in height, and twelve to twenty metres in width, never wider than they were taller, decorated the land and the ground that was no longer made of white sands, but black asphalt. These cuboids had no windows and no doors.

And the Angel saw foreign beings. And the Angel could not believe that he saw foreign beings. The Angel believed that he was dreaming. There were two types of foreign beings, and each of the same type has slight variances in the colours and sizes.

One foreign being had the head of a fish, the eyes of a cat, the lips of a horse, the flippers of a tortoise, the body of a gorilla, the tentacles of a squid, the shell of a lobster, and the feathers of a peacock, and the Angel thus thought to himself, “Truly an amalgamation of the brightest pearls of life.”

One foreign being had hardened exoskeletons picturing a purplish sky, grey specks of dusty dots upon a tinted backdrop of yellow, with tens of long red tentacles swaying around like hair on a scalp, tingling and swinging as if they are individually fighting for their lives, and a mouth hidden in the midst of the blob of red hair, and the Angel thus thought to himself, “Truly a rational-minded creature on par with the intelligence of a deep sea.”

And the foreign beings walked on the asphalt, sometimes walking into the walls of the white cuboids, and as their bodies touched the walls, they slowly melded into the walls and became one with the cuboids.

The foreign being with the head of a fish approached the Angel and said, “Hey, Corals, he’s awake! He’s finally awake! Come here, Corals, for the Angel has awoken!”

The foreign being with tens of long red tentacles approached the Angel and said, “People, we will celebrate this momentous occasion! Truly, our tourism of this world has not gone to waste!”

And the foreign beings exited the white cuboids all at once. Many came to witness the Angel, and many wanted to touch the Angel. And the foreign being with tens of long red tentacles said, “People, we will not conduct the celebration at this location, for we have already prepared a new home for the Angel. A place where he can live free from all suffering.” And the foreign being with the head of a fish said, “Ah, gee, Corals, you just gotta spoil all the fun. Ah, whatever. Hey, Angel, welcome to the City of Sleep, tirelessly handcrafted by our very own blood, sweat, and tears! I know you’d love to explore the fine architecture of this place, but we’ll see you at the large tower over there, just up ahead! You need to be grateful, you know, for we named the Tower of Angel after you!”

And the foreign being with tens of long red tentacles said, “It shouldn’t be too far, Angel. Once you’re there, I am sure you will feel so much happiness and joy, and by then, you will be enlightened!”

And the foreign being with the head of a fish said, “Anyways, we’ll see you there. You can call us the Underwater People, and the party-poopers over there are known as the Philosopher Corals.”

And the Underwater People and the Philosopher Corals have left for the Tower of Angel. The Angel was happy. The Angel was no longer in pain.

And the Angel told himself, “It’s going to be okay.”

---

- After the arguments between the Underwater People and Philosopher Corals, just before Grey Walker read the book –

(Dreamer. Samsara)

Silence.

The Underwater People and Philosopher Corals lay in droves on the ground, with every single body part of theirs either cut halfway or three-quarters the way. The area’s still rather dark, stemming from the Lightless Field that, due to its empowered intensity, is still in the midst of being vacuumed by the arm-slits of the unmoving Mundane. These two, although separated and without any form of verbal communication except for Mundane’s occasional oh’s, are in sync and in more control of the battlefield than Mother could ever hope for.

And the Bloody Rain pours again, but mellower as the last. I don’t think Angel and I even need to take shelter in the white box anymore, but it’s a good place to wait while I sort my thoughts out.

The arguments… the internal conflicts of the enemy, have been entirely within the expectations of Anti and me. What Walk did was to empower their physical strength, but their mental strength remains as weak and conflicted as ever.

And this conflict means that… they can no longer fully control the world as the singular and perfect entity of Our True Selves.

It’s ironic, really, for their deep-rooted incompatibility with the principles of one another has been present ever since they arrived in the Dusty-Spined Star, but it is only because of the empowerment and their newly granted title as Our True Selves that they felt confident and invincible enough to confront each other in a no-holds-barred argument.

And because this situation has occurred, it is now time for us to ascend the Cliff.

I look around the insides of the box. All the Soup that was on the walls and ceilings have mostly flowed to the floor. They have seemingly become… thinner.

Those Soup would’ve dissolved those Old Walls… right?

And all the… parts, have already been dissolved to Soup. I really don’t want to think about it, but I simply don’t get it… how did they die?

Not die as in how they were killed, but die as in… this lack of rebirth.

I sink my hand into the Soup, and scoop up a small portion, before letting it waterfall down the gaps in my fingers. Children… did you no longer want to live anymore…?

Did you just… give up on life, and decided to be Soup… forever?

So… you’re telling me that if you found a renewed purpose of life, you will come back?

… Or… do you no longer care about your life’s purpose anymore?

I scoop up another small portion. The Soup seems to be getting less… viscous, as if the heart that has been holding the Soup together is vanishing.

Children… did you just… give up on death? What could possibly cause such suffering to your fragile little hearts that you cannot find peace even in death?

And the Soup flows down like the softest and most colourful water. And the complete loss of viscosity has spread the Soup across the entire floor, and Angel’s ow’s can be heard.

But the Soup’s so thin, so shallow, barely reaching the full height of my sandals’ bases.

I sigh. I let out the longest sigh since I first appeared in this world. A revelation hits me.

 

 

 

Children… Walk gave up on this world… didn’t she?

 

 

 

A small portion of the Soup in front of me coagulates into a ball the size of my fist. Slowly, but surely, the Soup liquefies, and the ball is now just colourful water.

Dammit. Why, though…

Did she fulfil her dreams of reading the book?

Or did she read the book and…

Walk… why did you give up on this world…?

I sigh even longer than the previous, upon seeing the coagulation and liquefaction again.

This… isn’t part of my plan.

Walk was supposed to be happy after fulfilling her dreams.

We were all supposed to be happy after fulfilling our dreams.

The fulfilment of our dreams is supposed to be the one thing that is assured to bring us tremendous joy, and satisfaction, and relief…

Why, why?!

Why, Children, why…?

How could this… be…?

I… cannot… I…

WHY??!!!

I exit the box. The Bloody Rain has stopped.

The two beings stand there. Coincidentally, their positions are side-by-side, facing my direction.

And the liquefied Soup spreads towards them, stopping just before their bladed legs and armoured legs.

I sense Angel stepping out of the box. When this version of the Angel came to the world, his first words were to Father, asking him if he murdered Walk…

That was Walk speaking from inside the Angel, wasn’t it?

Walk never wanted to die; she wanted to evolve, she wanted to be better.

She never truly lost hope in her life, as she endlessly walked the grey path searching for the truth.

And the grey path… led towards her end.

“Grey Walker… is dead.”

I try not to show it. I try my best not to. But I can’t. I can’t stop it.

I can’t stop the tears from flowing.

Oh gosh… she’s dead… she’s really dead…

 

 

 

Walk… killed herself.

 

 

 

I’m weak, Mother… because I’m weak…

“Oh… Grey Walker is… dead… oh… oh…”

 

 

 

I’m sorry Mother. I’m sorry… Walk…

… I guess we can never be happy.

 

 

 

Walk…

Walk…

Why have you… Why have you…

You are the sole walker of this world, and even you… even you…

Walk…

 

 

 

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

 

 

 

---

- Meanwhile –

(“To Walk on Water” by Fatherson Spirit)

In the beginning

there was a key to the sky

above the endless sea of beginnings

and like a spoon from the heavens

stirring the Soup of Life

and the birth of the protagonist

by an apple tree in a Beautiful Field

by the chapel’s free will, we will never yield

 

And there was a time

when the nightly stars aligned

a stupendous white sky

and on your lush face, they’re defined

and our miraculous bright cries

that our rest will never be till sunrise

for the Lord of Stagnation’s head will rise

sitting on a golden throne, unsurprised

 

So it is now or never

yet week by week, time flies

as the past, present, and future collide

and the waves of rebirth subside

as the foreign beings walk on water

threading past a neverending forever

will our dreams only scream a never

or to write a happy ending together

 

Amidst your unparalleled beauty

our souls bind together by the Light

and I will protect you with all my life

in a world where death is a new life

on the seventh day, we shall lie down and rest

underneath the cool shade of fate’s woven crest

and life’s true wonders shall bow at your behest

yet happiness is still the goal of our quest

 

In the beginning

the heavens and the star were created

now the star was dustless and barren

and a traumatizing Lightless Field

was over the surface and underground

and the spirit of the Angel

the messiah of a being’s true self

was walking on the Soup of Life

looking upwards, the Angel asked

“will you be my friend?”

 

 

 

---

- End of Chapter 5: Code

 

 

 

 

 

***