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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 · 奇幻
分數不夠
79 Chs
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[Balance]

A light wind blew in all directions, granting caresses of relief to overheated people. The leaves flew wasting without any direction, creating value for the unemployed by working part-time.

It was a wonderful day where the singing of birds and the laughter of children made up the fifth natural and daily symphony.

Children laughed while having fun, different groups of different ages played without distinction in a wide variety of games.

One of the children, separated from the others, was focused on maintaining balance in his own imaginative world.

His facial expressions communicated great difficulty. But disciplined like an older man, he achieved it with great satisfaction.

Crowning himself in his world, he altered the flow of the real world. Different boys approached trying to perform the same feat, with ineffectiveness. Because of their own competitiveness, by getting in each other's way.

"Hey, Herminn, make way! Stay out of the way!" shouted one of the children who was trying to complete the crossroads task.

But when he pointed his finger at the boy named Herminn, he unfortunately lost his balance, falling without retreat to his actions.

Which caused the other children to laugh, especially Herminn; a recognized twenty-four-year-old good-for-nothing... Not really, it was just his peculiar appearance for his young age, the main reason being his premature mustache.

"Retire, you're not good for this." Herminn commented condescendingly.

"Do you even want to fight?!" Said the boy who stood up quickly, undoing the dirt that was impregnated on his clothes.

"I was just kidding". Herminn said with a smile. While he gave him his hand to continue playing.

"They're wrong, they're doing it wrong. Keeping your balance is simple... You just hold your arms like that. Look!" The child commented with a big smile that he had activated the enthusiasm of the game like a domino effect.

Balance, understood from different perspectives, had innumerable versions. Simplified or complex.

The physical ability to balance, which was generally recognized.

Or the balance necessary for life in an ecosystem.

Knowledge that escaped the reality of many, or trapped in the mind of an intellectual.

Causal or natural balance. Regardless of its complexity, its presence was traceable from the most enduring to the ephemeral.

"Have you heard? There is a charitable spokesperson under the name of Prince Federick." commented a drunk man in a tavern, in an excessive act of highlighting by holding his beer high while swaying.

"Yes, I have. According, give away money while you have a broken leg... Shall I help you? Hahaha!" Another answered while laughing at his friend.

"You're pretty funny... Too much for my taste." The drunk man said, shaking his fist, in an act of boasting that ended badly, when he fell from his chair to the floor.

With this, a festive atmosphere arose. Comments were flying and the laughter was raucous.

"You know, according to expert analysis, this is because of conflicting emotions in young Federick. They say that when experiencing the poisoning attempt, he reflected on Leonardo." The bartender commented while cleaning some glasses.

"Who is Leonardo?" asked one of the drunks.

"Rest in peace". The bartender commented reproachfully.

Until the atmosphere was interrupted due to the entry of others. To their dismay, it was a boy.

"Dad, mother said you should come back soon." He commented quickly as he retreated outside again.

"Hurry up, Herminn!" A child shouted.

At the shout, Herminn rushed before the forward group. A group made up of their friends, who were returning to their homes.

"Hey, don't leave me behind." Herminn shouted as he caught up with them.

"Heh, you're too slow." A boy commented with mockery.

The children continued walking while exchanging comments. It was casual chatter, mixed with occasional laughter. They didn't have complex emotions, they just lived.

Slowly, some said goodbye.

Little by little, only a small group of five remained.

"Hey, Herminn, don't you dare knock on the church doors." One of the children commented in a mischievous manner.

Gradually, they had arrived in front of the church. A highly renowned institution, with a great construction.

"Why should I? It's not that I don't dare, but why?" Herminn said as he looked at the huge church in front of his eyes.

"If you don't dare, just admit it." Another said mockingly.

"I don't think it would be right." Herminn answered doubtfully.

"Or you're a chicken." He said who first urged.

At this, anger flared in the manipulable Herminn. Who, pushing his friend, quickly headed to the imposing doors of the church.

Thus, using all his strength, he struck three times with tenacity.

Like a switch, everyone immediately ran out desperately.

And even an adult wanted to catch them, but his actions did not come to a fruitful end.

"Little legs, why do I want them?" It was heard in the distance.

As the children were escaping into laughs, the imposing doors were opened in a thunderous noise. The perpetrator was a bald young man with a constipated face.

He carefully observed his surroundings, trying to visualize the visitors, without success.

"They were children. They ran away." The same man who tried to catch them said between big inhalations.

"Oh, Mr. Friedchz. Thank you." The bald young man commented with a dry gratitude, closing the doors once more.

He appeased his anger, because he was on an important task: Delivering tea to two important figures.

He was simply passing through, so he bothered to open the doors. Now he headed through the crossroads of the church structure, until he finally came upon a beautifully decorated garden.

Where two figures were talking on a bench.

"I agree with what you say, Mr. Auscht, balance is essential. Especially when it comes to good and evil. Distorted value, so present in our deconstructed society."

That was what the bald young man heard, having no weight in his head.