Prologue

In this world there exists power. The more power someone collects, the more powerful one becomes. This power is only limited by the imagination of the Imaginary, but its appearance is determined by one's personality and genetics (maybe?).

Those who reap such power are called gatherers. Gatherers are people that live in-between reality, where the energy of a certain engine, powering the present, seeps through. Living between reality means constant risk of being consumed by power. Those who are, give up their appearance and in rare cases even their soul.

Reality is something we cannot comprehend, that's why we all create our own. Every experience we make is biased by the circumstances we live in. In order to live a happy life we need to take care of those around us (because they make part of our reality) and focus on the present (where there's power). Ignorance is needed to see the bright side of life (preventing ones reality from turning in to a nightmare).

Those clinging to the past cannot succeed.

One's reality is like an air bubble adhering to the hydrophobic duck feather, not letting any water come in contact with it. Whereas gatherers fill their buckets in that same pond where the duck feather drifts around.

I need to get my hands on some hydrophobic coating... What's been washed away cannot be recollected, but maybe I can create some of my own. I feel like if I don't cling to those memories, then my reality fades away forever.