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Goaizu

Above the cosmos... Nothing hangs. How do you know? I'm not all-powerful, but I have common sense, you know? It is as if you were proposing life after death, a banality for the hopeless; but there is reincarnation... What? Confusing, meaningless and lacking logic... Above the cosmos? Could there be another more brilliant jewel that adorns the crown? It makes no sense, just like rebirth... Who would like to remember past memories? Traumas, attachments, beings; unless you are a slave. But who is not a slave? There are no exceptions... Could it be that above the cosmos I will find an answer? 'Son of a bitch', that's the best abstract promotion framework I've ever seen...

Finger_of_Shiva · Fantasy
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79 Chs

[World superimposed to reality]

Federick had understood his mother's words. He was no longer a stranger to the common language, but he did not master it as such.

But the space for any kind of thought was unimportant. Perla had lifted him in her arms as if they were cobwebs.

He had finally set out on a journey. He had taken this opportunity to open his eyes to their fullest extent and observe his surroundings.

It had paid off because he had enjoyed it. Reviving his nostalgia for his former long journeys for extended periods on roads.

As if it were the scene of a work of art, his surroundings were mixed in an architectural image with nature; which achieved a sublime and harmonious feeling.

Large trees occasionally shed their leaves in a gentle wind. Ponds that mingled with these lost leaves.

But as if it were a dream, this image was lost in his memories... Replaced by a long corridor, simple but elegant. Exuding a sense of timelessness and serenity.

But this serenity caused by the silence was cut short when they reached an open hall. Where several individuals, both men, and women, with the addition of infants, were gathered.

From this scene, he noticed a particularity: the clothing.

He and the infants shared being well-dressed and clean, and neat.

But the men present stood out more because they did not wear long garments as they did not seek to hide skin; they resembled togas. Leaving decent muscles exposed, left one to deduce a healthy culture.

But his train of thought was nipped in the bud by the entrance of an old man. Who was dressed in white and neat, sporting ostentatious hair and a large vertical beard; he looked like an old Taoist from a Chinese movie.

He pronounced words with great eloquence and skill, wasting saliva, simulating a haughty and benevolent image.

But his next words were of great impact on him. He was finally acknowledging the truth, of why he was here.

"System, tell me, is there any reliability in this tradition?" Federick asked doubtfully, because this reality, if so, swirled violently and struck with its deadly reality.

[Lord, I do not need the action of making any deduction, because the rising energy, far but near, confirms his words.]

The confirmation of his strange but reliable tool had been a violent generational slap in the face. Forcing him to rethink his previous and current thoughts.

But an act of the old man had distracted him. As if he were a model getting out of a swimming pool, he turned around with his high cheekbones visible, small nose, and large lips.

They had resumed the walk to a new destination, to Federick's anxiety. His thoughts galloped freely, not allowing him to rest in any way.

After a short period, they had finally arrived at the place Ben Stailer had referred to... The old man. Where a particular natural light was gathering, caused by a strange nature that climbed the walls and ceiling.

The atmosphere was already foreboding of supernatural events. Silence, tranquility, calm, and serenity? As if they were caused by an actor, destiny.

But there was something that called him, breaking this artificial serenity created. As if they were a thousand horses and three tigers, loose and frantic.

"War... War... WAR!"

Voices murmured in his mind, giving him a headache. But from one moment to the next, as if by magic act, they ceased. Higher existences in the food chain, cause terror in the lower ones...

Using again his skills as an observer, he saw two distant elements. A fountain with liquid, with nothing to highlight beyond its feeling of antiquity.

But the bell, in addition to its colors dulled by the distinguished act of time, had drawings on it. Clumsy drawings but they conveyed distinct emotions; as if it were a corrupted artifact.

But it quickly spread ripples of supernatural power, which sealed this abnormal behavior. He did not understand what it was, but its origin was the old man in front of everyone.

Giving a final honorable mention, he finally began the long-awaited ceremony. An event in which Federick quickly lost attention.

As the events transpired, Federick maintained a sharing of information with his system. The central focus is the images presented on the bell.

"Grant me information from the images."

[To carry out the action, it is impossible, Lord. Because it would lead to your premature death by energy drainage].

"No, no, I mean introduce me to the images. I do not distinguish them from this distant position."

[That's easy, Sir: At the bottom is a sequence of actions, of a woodcutter getting his firewood cut.]

"..."

[A great temple stretches over the sky, without the need of support. Violating the laws of gravity]

[Around it are varied images of various individuals. Some are indistinguishable due to the erosion of time... Full restoration: There are ascetic monks, warriors with luxurious armor, beggars, and individuals on large beasts... And a great being makes up the upper part of the stage]

[And in the upper part a new sequence of movements is repeated. An ascetic monk swoops down and destroys a demon's head with his open palm]

Federick was about to express his thoughts, in search of reflection, but unusual bright lights interrupted him.

An ethereal illusion in the shape of a spear had appeared in front of a girl. A fact that confirmed the mysticism present, mentioned by his system.

This had surprised him, but quicker than expected, it was his time to try. Abandoning his Mother's soft arms, exchanging them for old, crumpled ones.

And just like that, his head was surrendered to the cold liquid, submerging it in slight folds. But it was there that he received his greatest blow; his head began to resonate with the ripples in the liquid, his brow vibrating to the smallest cells.

Surrendering to Morpheus, this plunged him into a heavy sleep. At that moment he became unconscious, but he quickly regained his senses.

He was in a different space, no longer in the old hands. But he had noticed a peculiarity: He had once again obtained an adult pseudo-body. But this one was not made up of flesh and bones, just an empty vessel; with nothing in sight, transparent.

But in front of him, he observed how an illusion arose as if it were a hallucination. In this vast foggy space, only he and the fountain appeared; And from it a fish jumped out, spreading nine supersonic waves with him.

It arrogantly fell back into the liquid, splashing freely. Where it had passed through, a vertical halo of light spread, which produced nine intricate arrays around it.

Federick did not understand the events passing before his eyes, but as an intuitively divine work, knowledge presented itself at the gates of his mind.

"He, explorer and conqueror, to whom belong the soles soiled with unknown lands, with the possibility of traversing the nine upper sequences, leaving a trail of existential recognition."

Federick had not understood some words nor could he continue listening, due to his drained energy and headache. Thus, like a prostitute, he was rejected from this unknown space.

Returning to reality, where he observed petrified reactions. It could not be explained in words. Emotions were so chaotic that they were exchanged between all individuals in a cycle.

Although the old man's expression was one of shock, he continued with his already scheduled work, allowing him to ring the bell. Where it received seven sounds, without producing any illusions.....

Ben Stailer had a funny expression, due to his shock that was still unsettled. But one noise was the wheel that broke the harmonious cycle of shock.

Perla had fallen to her knees in extreme shock, unable to react, mentioning incongruous words.

"The prophecy of the Goddess. The prophecy of the Goddess. The prophecy of the Goddess." Perla had lost the sparkle in her eyes.

...

"The Prince heir to wisdom is born."

"The Crown Prince of Wisdom has arisen."

"The crown prince to the wisdom of this age."

These were the incongruous comments of the crowd, who could not yet park themselves in the earthly reality. Even in their imaginative and recreational spaces.

"Federick, weeks: A total of nine waves in the fountain, producing a vision, and has sounded seven times. Demonstration Prince heir to wisdom and inclination to intelligence."

Hello! The author. Actually I have two pieces of news, one good and one bad....

Since I'm a free and happy author, I'll say the good one first: We've finally reached ten thousand words!

And unfortunately... the bad one: Unfortunately Federick's big head has damaged the fountain owned by the Battlemman family, sacred article of their poor and pitiful ancestors. Participate in the collection of power stones, to restore it to its original form!

Thanks!

Finger_of_Shivacreators' thoughts