Capítulo 1: Death?
It was indeed a full moon, shining its radiant light upon the trees and canopies of the forest. Each ray reflected off the endless leaves littering the soil. The slight breeze made the branches sing, while the shadows, unable to contain their excitement, danced in the moon's luminous beams. The forest floor, so plain, became animated by a dark mural of shadows. Such beauty was common in these rural woods. Once a full moon, then a waning gibbous, so too did life unfold. Just as the moon brightens and fades, so does despair. That is the law of the world. Without despair, there can be no peace, leaving one puzzled about the point of it all.
"However, that doesn't matter. The cycle will break. Our cycle will break." A boy with tanned hair and a face so average you'd forget him if not for the countless scars that littered his body. His only redeeming quality was his hardy body, packed tight with muscles, the calluses on his hands evident of his hard work. Yet, no matter how average his looks may be, one glance reveals the gloomy shadow hovering before him.
In a careful motion, the boy outstretched his hand, catching the moon's radiance. With each beam of light filtering between the base of his fingers, beautiful streams cascaded onto his face. On second glance, perhaps there was something charming about his features, though it was too subtle to tell.
"I used to hate you, moon. How is it that you can always be the same? No matter the day, the problems, the issues that cover the earth, you shine so brightly. Then I realized…" He paused, taking a fresh breath of air, his voice strained, revealing a deep pain residing in his words. "In some way, even you are stuck in a loop, just like me. Each week, you grow dim, then disappear. Then you come back, shining brightly until you inevitably grow dark, except for you…" His voice faltered, and a single tear began to form in the crease of his eyelid. "-Except for you, your sun doesn't die."
With that, his outstretched arm gracelessly fell to his side, and the scars previously hidden in the shadow of his hand were revealed. Each scar was a reminder of the countless trials he had gone through. If before he was strikingly average, now he would be the center of attention. "You know, even though you never talk back to me, thanks for being there for me…" He shifted his gaze from the floor to the horizon, patiently waiting for his end, the world's end.
"It's beautiful, who would've thought…? Right, of course I would think this looks nice." Ironic but true. What would normally be the edge of the horizon was instead a tumultuous mass of clouds, rolling over itself like a well-oiled machine, each puff expanding and compressing. Streaks of yellow and blue powered this monstrosity. Every time the horrific—but strangely delicate—lightning flashed, the clouds illuminated from within, akin to a misty lamp.
Up until now, everything the clouds touched was instantly destroyed. Either by the powerful lightning or the ravenous winds that blew away everything in sight. Yet, if that was all there was to it, perhaps humanity could survive. Underground bunkers were already a thing, so what was a little lightning and some breeze? Those thoughts couldn't be more wrong. There was something far, far more ominous in the storm. The presence of which promised the end of the world. But if by some miracle you managed to survive beyond the horizon, you could be sure that 'they' would kill you. At this thought, the teen laughed.
He was utterly powerless. Completely, and utterly powerless. Sure, he might be able to break some boulders, even jump several meters into the air. But such actions would be meaningless in the face of true strength. In the presence of true and unrelenting power, there was nothing to be done. "There's no way to survive. Actually, would I even want to survive? I would be alone… not that it makes a difference."
Standing on a hill, the teen looked at his fate. Just a few miles before him lay his end; the fog of soot and ashes was already approaching. "I've had lots of ups and downs. Some victories, and many, many fails." Sitting down in a crisscross position, fully embracing the tumultuous winds, the teen prepared for his death.
"And on such a beautiful night…"
He was consumed, lost in the storm of nightmares.
***
"Mom, why do people die?" A little boy asked, a strange question for someone full of life.
The woman pre-occupied with cooking threw her hair back and responded, "Honey, what do you mean?"
"I mean, why do people die? Why?"
Clearly trying to avoid the question, mother gave a curt response, "Well, everyone dies,"
"Why?"
"Because everyone lives, and when everyone lives everyone must die,"
Pausing, the boy seemed to soak the information up, "That's stupid."
Smiling, mom gazed at her boy, her beautiful boy.
Setting down the dish she was preparing a faint rattle echoed through the kitchen. Having grabbed the traditional salt and pepper, mom carefully seasoned the food. Turning off the stove she thought once again of her child's remark.
"Pshhvvv" Currently, the child had seemingly forgotten all about the conversation just spoken and was playing cars. Using his mouth as the engine sound, he guided a little firetruck back in forth across the carpet.
"Indeed, it really is stupid." Mom muttered under her breath.
***
What is reality?
I found myself pondering reality and how easily the mind can be deceived. Had I woven an illusion of hope, a fragile dream that hung by the thinnest of threads? In my darkest moments, I felt like a puppet, strings tugged by an unseen force, shaping fantasies that seemed so delicate. In theory, it should be possible to escape this weighty reality, to silence the laws that govern our existence and envision a world crafted by our beliefs. Yet, many fall into the trap of self-deception, clinging to lofty ideals. They mistake persecution for purpose and treat coincidences as divine signs. But for what? What do we gain from this delusion?
"We gain hope."
And the only way to describe such people, whether it's intentional or not…
"They are fools."
As for what am I? I am also a fool. The biggest of them all.
"Mom, heh," I'm not sure whether to let out a cry or to laugh at the irony, but— a reality filled with hope is a merciless one. Especially… when it's all for naught.
I wanted to lift my arm, but the fog had already split most of my tendons. Despite the cloudy appearance, the atmosphere was quite sharp—literally.
'I guess this is why everyone is already dead.'
Inwardly sighing, I waited to die, and a few minutes passed.
"Strange… I'm not dead?"
And with hope comes dread. I dreaded my death for the simple fact that I still had hope—hope that I would live.
Interestingly enough, the wind blades had subsided, and the fog around me cleared. No longer was the ravenous storm… ravenous; in fact, the air was almost light.
As if mocking me, a moment later the air intensified and the ground quaked.
"Well, shit."
That's all I could say before my throat refused to work any longer. Swallowing hard on my saliva, I glanced around, but because I was half-paralyzed, I couldn't do much, so I just scanned the surrounding area.
'That's a tree, that's a tree,' I backtracked. 'Wait, that's not a tree… and here we go.'
Despite my nonchalance, I was terrified. In the distance, a figure was approaching. It looked as if it were walking, but the speed at which it was traveling was far too immense to simply be the strides of a walk.
Through the fog, the blackened form slowly became more apparent as it approached.
Step.
Step.
Step.
I could hear the footsteps now—no, maybe I heard the world around me jolting instead. As I paid attention, it wasn't making a sound.
'Eerie.'
Its silhouette demanded attention. Slightly humanoid in appearance, but that was it; it was only a vague resemblance of a human. The rest… the rest of its body was mangled beyond repair. It appeared that even with all its torrential power, not even the Thing could emerge unscathed.
My face remained impassive, partly due to being unable to move from exhaustion and partly from acceptance. I'd lived far longer than I should have; perhaps meeting my end only to be killed by a powerful being could be considered an honor.
'Shit.'
Or so I told myself.
This creature was simply too terrifying. Not that its appearance alone instilled fear in me; even the storm was commanded by its will. As it 'walked' toward me, I noticed the air bending around the monstrous being's figure, as if making way for its master. The trees that I had admired just previously were flattened like paper.
Worst of all…
The figure swiped its hand in the air, instantly destroying a tree to its right, it stumbled shortly after but quickly regained its footing.
I was scared. So, so scared.
It came closer, drawing nearer and nearer still.
My heart rate increased.
It took one step and traveled meters upon meters gracefully, if such a thing could be called that.
My fingers curled into the soil beneath me. I felt my nails bleed, not that I was paying attention.
Before I could make any more moves, it was upon me. As its gaze fell onto me, drops of blood fell onto my clothes. The Thing, was bleeding.
The winds stood eerily still; not even a wisp could be heard.
I looked up.
Its harrowing gaze locked with mine.
My impassive face and its demented expression gazed at one another.
Death, it seemed, was finally upon me. I've always wondered what happens after death—do you dream? Or is it only darkness? If the latter, then at least I would finally be able to rest… If the former, then I hope to at least live a comfortable life, one without worry.
My heart, once racing with fear, began to slow, a resignation settling like a heavy fog. In that moment, even my body seemed to understand the futility of resistance.
The Thing seemed to briefly acknowledge me with a nod, breaking the staring contest we held. No, it probably just got bored of me; that would make more sense. Indeed, if I were an overpowered deity, wouldn't I get bored of a pitiful being? After all, humans are pathetic by nature.
The creature lifted its slender arm.
I suddenly thought of a certain moment with my mom; it was a foggy, old memory that didn't carry much weight, yet at this moment it felt heavier than the world.
Death…
The Thing swung its arm down; there was no escape.
Death is…
The hand reached just before my neck.
Death is really stupid.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
LucianNoir
LucianNoir um... if you happened to read this, thanks for bearing with me.
This is actually a very old piece I resigned for this story. So you might notice inconsitencies, alas I am an inconsistant author. But if you see something that needs to be tweaked, comment! :)
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder