“Your subjectification of light and life is weird. The lake swallowed you, yet you went right back against it, and even fought back without becoming full, fine, or accepting. You made things difficult, or... meant to be, yet... broken, intense, dreadful, and light you can be. This one can be odd. What makes your lots fine and not, but fine to keep the Royals in check′and dance around the whole issue? Lining even lights with you and thinks your redemption is possible. What is the appearance, depth, or light in it and you?” Oogling said to Murai, and spoke like the most highly anticipating scientist.

  “I don't like Light,” Murai told his truth. “But the Resonance—”

  “—kept you busy and kept you here, right? Odder.” Oogling added. “It sure as the moon did it, so it makes you an adequate incident or a mistake bordering on yet another incident.. It makes me happy, some disgruntled, or fearful of a change, but most of all won't even bother to think about it since it is the old problem. That's a very dangerous mindset, you see. Realms such as ours had taken their toll and changed a vast amount of times, and for what?”

  Murai rolled his eyes. “Doesn't every Realm have the exact same thing? The Reality has its Epochs, and we are at the Third line of much deeper eras. Blah. Blah. It works and not, and you will tell 'How shitty and crazy everything is'. Yours got what? Dozens of changes? Millions of eras? That sounds like a large disparity, but in actual practice, such matters are undoubtedly unequal, and no one bothers with them. I don't. They make me sick.”

  Oogling didn't hate it and nodded. “Sure, but it is dangerous to play with the merits of light and darkness that can't live with each other, I say. That's silly, I argue. Wrong, I deject! It isn't about disparity. Existence and even our little pockets don't reject stuff. It simply flows, and then pivots to some lines and thoughts that create wonderful experiences and changes. Thus, many think it is better to create the living examples than sort them out themselves, for they have to serve a purpose.”

  “I don't get it.”

  “Shame, I say. It isn't our shame. I suppose most Realms know we aren't much with the Epochverse of Reality dwelling around Everything. Shadows, flames, or dazzle of brightness are all about relation to the overall concepts of... things. What are yours?”

  “A duck?” Murai stated the sole insanity that pointed to one shitty disturbance. This life, he reckoned. “It made this Resonance inevitable and complicated yet finer than I should be. Is it playing with my lots? Not sure, but I am fine playing this sort for as long as it can get me. Should I feel disgruntled as well? Nah. Which are you?”

  “Duck, eh? What sort of creature do you take yourself for?” Oogling interpreted his answer and soul for something else, and didn't care much about Murai's questions.

  “Can't you see?” Murai joked, oblivious to the eyes, and flared up his wings. “Nightmare? Silly goose mistake? Many regard it differently, whereas my points travel to the First Epoch, where it started. Ah, sorry, that isn't important. What is, even? My wounds, lots, or balance? They are all mistaken! There is none. None! I think I've done nothing, but I lived for so long, and for what? I don't even know anymore... but I grow aware the start was somewhere great and it keeps knocking and I don't want that! I don't!”

  “Reality and this realm is often disappointing, right, Lining?”

  “Yes, Master.” she agreed on the spot. “What goes between is an exchange of light and words, but we have our duties, disappointments, mistakes, treasured lighting, and playing worths of charms. It pains nothing, for it is still happening and will happen. Sometimes, it is poor. Other times, it grows with visions that our home takes for granted.”

  “Which ends in what?” Oogling wondered as he circled around them, regarding kneeling Lining with respect and Murai with curiosity.

  Nobody answered, so he got it right himself.

  “Resonance gifts reason and splendor because it lightens the gaps. It is not right or wrong. Some Realms like the others' ideas much more since that's what they do the best. Our Light grants light where nothing shines, yet... gets where there is also no light, while your depths are silly, broken lots made of sturdily built rocks. You are sorry for yourself or your past, aren't you? Are you still building? Living? Has it broken you so much that you live just to find reasons to die for?”

  “Not much is there, right?” Murai added, feeling angry to hear his matters described in this way. Maybe he disliked the fact that Oogling was right.

  “What are you, my dear friend?” Oogling asked, almost demandingly so. “Depending on your answers, I will release the King Strands and let them decide what you are for yourself. Maybe there is a change waiting there. More gaps? A lot? Some had already drilled their bits into you, so not all is lost, dread one.” He spread his sticks above, gesturing to this monumental observatory.

  It was kind of shady. For once, there seemed to be something monumental about a cave under the surface, and a light bridge coming into it wasn't revealing everything. Murai was unable to see the sides or how tall this place was. He just knew it was big enough to create the darkness, which disturbed him because this whole realm wasn't about it. What were they hiding here?

  After Oogling's gesture, all over the walls, countless rooms lit up one by one. There were strands of light there, put into prisons and cages. “Caught and nurtured, these are the prismatic comprehensions that your kind from reality loves.”

  “Kind?”

  “Well, that is subjective, and the Reality is enough for us to see it clearly, as I don't dwell on what and who is what. Races are called bodies, correct? They can rot and disappear, yet what remains then? Nothing, right? Lots matters. Souls, excuse me. We don't care about what the body is like. What is inside? How is it inside? How right the soul bind the meaning? Resonance touches what it wants, and you've touched something very good in here, and are cursed with that kind of opportunity that answers questions that such lands always pondered. You do know your meaning, do you?”

  “...”

  “No?”

  “I...”

  “Oh, light!” Oogling sighed, causing his light to thunder around him, and then felt very disturbed. “You don't know.”

  “What does that mean?” Murai grunted. “I never asked for this kidnapping!”

  “Yet you tried really hard to understand it.” Oogling's smile turned much wider, and his sticks went back down. Millions of King Strands were all over the wall, itching and wincing as the prisons wavered and half-opened. There were cages, chairs, windows, and many knitted towers and rooms. They weren't real prisoners. They were there to learn and observe.

  “Never heard of this bullshit, Ugling.”

  “Oogling!”

  “Whatever,” Murai said. “Words are names. You have it weird, that's what I am trying to say, so don't go around assuming as if you know me. You don't. So, are you gonna relieve me of reality or what? I was on the brink of losing anyway or doing something very important. Not sure what. Some sort of destruction and doing stuff for balance and sort. Boring stuff, really.”

  “Oh, that's wrong of me, I judge, but the Resonance barely started with your Will. You should open your eyes and see. It won't happen twice.”

  “True! For the better.” Murai chuckled. “I kept it busy instead by fighting against the challenge and pain and my shitty lots. Oh, sorry. Why should I even care about this kidnapping or being polite to you? I do things because I don't like it!”

  The spears wavered, and Murai's anger got the better of him. Lining felt it, skipped a light in herself, and felt her spear slipping and breaking in the intense Dread at its end, slowly revolving and darkening.

  “Unfilial indeed,” Oogling said and took the spear to his stick, leaving Lining backing away in disappointment and understanding that she was no longer fine with this link. She felt most of what felt right and wrong and realized she couldn't sort this out, let alone help him.

  Oogling let the spear become one with his stick, rather than changing and growing his arm or fingers.

  “I reckon there are many ways in Reality that don't make sense to us or anyone, correct? Is there meaning to these realms or acts that many decide for others, or just because they feel no other choice? Well, there are always choices to make. Now is the same.”

  “You know the reality well enough, Entity of Resonance,” Murai argued, still bobbling in his fury. “I've seen it. Felt it. You meddle with everything because you are the actual elements that create imbalance and mess. Cursed Laws! Are you actually remorseful or omitting what is right? I see light in the truth, so what is to tell me the lies? There is no need for a lie. There is nothing fine in these realities. Here or out!”

  Oogling paused, thinking of a nice response or tossing Murai to his demise.

  “I guess that is true, but I am not much of an Entity. Resonance Realm is where Laws exist, after all, with us being what is here, left, created, clustered, and turned by the likes of you and others. The reality and these realms are threaded. Not because of Laws, but because it is made like this. We are the creation of imagination, yet imagined, and then lived by ourselves.”

  “So what?”

  “Nothing. This goes far further than most could imagine. Far too long for one to see or remember it, and your current disposition is not light, even if this talk has been very entertaining to me. It puts lights on some dims. Now, what to do with you?”

  “Toss me and see.” Murai threatened to jump there himself, but could he do it? Nah. He was way too anticipated for that, and this guy put him on the spot for a reason.

  “That is a bother and... a very nice idea,” Oogling said and tossed Murai—along with the spear—to the end of the platform.

  “Is that fine, Master?” Lining asked in worry.

  “Of course not. King Strands,” Oogling shouted, making an order. “The shards of a walk of our King! Deem this worth a change or suffering, for you are gifts and a worth of your King! Gift or stop this seeker!”

  All prisons shivered and opened fully.

  Then, the last vestige of darkness lit up, unleashing seas of flooding light all around this observatory that led to nowhere. Well, Murai was at the center, and most King Strands went right at him as if they felt that spear and him, hoping to see what was up with him.

  Murai got to his feet and felt the shiver down his spine hit his soul after millions of crazy strands aimed at him. His fury was lessened, yet his curse remained, dimming the platform.

  “No spine,” Murai reckoned. “Just an itch of what is unrest. This is no war. This is no test. I don't give a flying feather about this one bit. I am just irritated... so... let this be. You think you caught me. No.”

  From that moment on, he couldn't move. There were light, turning, and overlapping strands with all kinds of patterns and noises.

  He accepted the drillings of all of them, be they strands of sharp designs or vicious or heated purposes. Most were violent, quick like lightning, and preposterous in their Laws. There were swords, spears, arrows, or whatever forms they maintained with preference or derision.

  They soared at him, shaking him up, cutting and going into him, but Murai let their storms wreck him because he hated what Oogling had started. Then, his words cracked him further, giving memories shocks, and his disposition began to creak and wreak havoc within his spirit.

  This was so strange that even his stubbornness leaked.

  He lost and bounced not only around the platform, but these strands crashed him down and upward, flying on their whim across the whole observatory alongside him. Dimming his darkness, playing with him, piercing him, gnawing at him, some even tried to get rid of him.

  Most failed in what they liked and hated. Those who were wounded did so with happiness, but most showed cracking, nausea, and fear. Others were bored and growing restless since Murai wasn't fun. He was pissed off and everything about this realm clashed agasint him.

  Murai did not fight back; he watched their acts happen, resigned over the meaning of light, and fight, so he kept his mind open more than ever before and tried to understand what the fuck was the point of those things fiddling with his insides. He felt them hours ago, or maybe days ago, and his hunch over his end was not coming.

  Perhaps he could get it after all these years, even if it was against the forgotten promise. He should persist. It might get better, some might say. They say it all the time. Those who try and get through him kept trying, at least, while his resignation came like yet another freaking curse.

  No. I've begged enough, Murai thought, remembering flashes of the start. A little boy, blinded, not greedy, yet grew out to be his curse. Murai did that himself, even if not directly from the beginning until the very end. All for that, yet for what? He dejected his derision and felt pity and shame for what he had done to him.

  I am sorry. The memory said. That this must go this way. You don't deserve it, so why do you insist? I never asked, so why...

  Wanting to die didn't get Murai anywhere, and he anticipated his dreadful feelings like that cursed damn memory. He grunted in realization and never hated his depth, leaking soul, light, and brightness and dreadfulness within him this much. It was messing everything up, yet these strands weren't doing everything. He kind of did.

  The storm of King Strands played with him for a whole hour, and after many cracked apart, dejected in their light, Murai dropped back to the platform, in pieces, feeling weak, but still alive.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  He lay there, shivering in his hatred, white spots, bright lines, and dust that was yet to settle. It was mixed. Most of the treasures and wounds from that lake cracked apart long ago; they were obviously weaker than King Strands, the spears and shards included.

  “Mind you, I almost took a nap,” Murai said to Oogling, who approached his flesh first. His mouth was no longer smiling, and Lining might be behind him, not smiling because she couldn't, but Murai felt she wouldn't do that even if she had a mouth.

  “Now, this is certainly something else. Do you demand more from us than we can give? From the Resonance and your life? You don't stubborn yourself!”

  “I saw worlds crack apart,” Murai said as a blob of his own chaos. “The meaning of Death and Dread is close to being the same, while the Light is what, again? Does it rock with Order as its ruler, or is this about Laws or Chaos that makes us crazy regardless of color? I ask for nothing...”

  “Your will and body, what are they, and why Resonance sought it all?!” Oogling demanded. “Just what are you trying to do? Crack everything?”

  “Why? Why you don't know that, I wonder and am close to laughing at your face if it weren't for the loose spears that are... broken. Oh, shame. Shame. Sorry, Child. It seems I destroyed your toys.”

  “No problem,” Lining said from the side. “I can find toys in any light.”

  “No!” Oogling argued, thundering in his voice and flesh as he felt Murai's soul. “You are being ridiculous and... wrong.”

  “It is just another whim of this cursed universe, ugling... so give up on me. I gave up ages and lives ago, but not out of spite. They are losing, and I kind of lost my meaning. I think I can appreciate it after getting this sorted out. Maybe it is fine to get whole in steps, rather than in marathons. Shame I can't get it done more, since I am missing a ton of meanings. Nay... Maybe I am just pretending to be a total idiot from the beginning. There is no fixing what has never been right from the get-go. Yet they kept me? Oh, silly idiots. They either knew it and kept me going like my first self. Who was I, again?”

  Murai wished to sleep, but one way or another, his loss wasn't coming. He felt nothing. He wished he were nothing and dreaded nothing.

  But he remembered and grew in surprising weight upon this thrashing, and a sense of self-discovery was nothing to scoff at either.

  Lining went behind her Master. “So, it is no good?” she asked weakly. “Even King Strands? He wrecked that ancient ground all for King's tints to do nothing.”

  Oogling kept his front on Murai. “Lining, my dear, this is a work of the Epochverse and its scars and reality that is away from us, yet it is already etched in fear, consequences, and dreams. Do you think Bond is a weak act? ”

  “Bond? Not sure, but it has been vacant for light years. Besides that, I figured this one out light beats ago, as his darkness and touch feel perfectly adequate like his appearance. His voice is also weird, right? Anger, fury, sorriness, sorrow, and many things churl and mix with desires to see something happen, return, or not happen. It is unhappy, correct? Bond is not a weak act. It is a fascinating concept of all Realms.”

  “Maybe it is everything. Everything, I mean. Weight and heavy, wrecking the worlds and heavens. That is a serious task, yet one or more are doing it, so why does this one feel more special? Oh, it is over. I can't make it worse. Resonance deemed you an instrument, so let the judgment be the King.”

  Oogling ended his Will and turned and walked away, leaving Lining alone with Murai.

  The King Strands remained hovering above the platform and bridge, hesitantly itching in immense disappointment that they hadn't done much with Murai. So many of them moved, all for them to fail.

  Perhaps it was doomed from the start, since what sort of lots were they? They felt no connection or comprehensive touch to this insane individual. They felt rejection, but also an open gate, yet also knew the boundary between worth and freedom was set on what should be fine.

  Plaything wasn't their Calling. Their pride was their main wound.

  Nobody was at fault but Murai's existence.

  Lining knelt aside of him, watching how Murai's body knitted together under no particular order or power. It was how it went after crashing and cutting and piercing by King Strands that left no points in him besides trashing with his past ones, or soul as a whole.

  “Your life. What is it like? What does it feel like?” She wondered and whispered.

  “Like a thousand needles going through one spot every second,” Murai answered, resting on the ground like a fly with cut wings.

  “What is... needle?”

  “...”

  “Just kidding,” Lining chuckled. “Is it that rough?”

  “I have it worse, it seems. For some, it is adequate and cheerful.”

  “Than for you?”

  “It is a curse.”

  “Curse? What is it?”

  “A joke.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “You don't mean that.”

  “Alright. It is something very bad and well against my sincerity and light. For you, it means an unkempt darkness following you from behind. Shadows, eh? Memories and deaths and curses are like that. They itch closer, until one or more snatches, kills, returns, and swallows, all for them to return again. Like in a pit. Abyss was its name?”

  “Like shadows inevitable from darkness and light?”

  “There are few shadows in this realm, I know,” Murai said. “Just tints when lights make holes or something special. Deep cuts. Dense clusters. Light Hole is a good analogy. Black Hole is fine too.”

  “Seems exciting. Enough to--”

  A loud thud echoed, stopping her words.

  Lining turned, watching an unnerving amount of King Strands return to their prisons without a second thought, and no longer hovered above them in millions of numbers.

  What came to the observatory was a rather insane thing. A giant made of countless strands, looking like feathers, leaves, or water droplets, walked forth. All kinds of colors were on him, and none was dark. They were dimmed shades and dots instead, and many parts were low because of their substantial density.

  The King walked straight, appearing majestic thanks to the crown made of many sparkling lines. His face was devoid of anything apart from a single eye that winced all around the room, looking at prisons, or further away.

  Lining knelt aside, no longer speaking to Murai or thinking of anything major. Her time ended in sadness and dimmed light, and she wished she had more time with Murai. Perhaps she could pivot this one in a different direction, yet she felt he already knew some of his answers.

  Opinions? Not so much. Lost. Alone. Not much could happen when one was deemed the Cursed One. She forgot about Uncle Master and Aisling, who were probably unable to enter this bridge. She ran away from them and met her Master instead.

  That should be enough for them.

  The King walked without any nerves, followed by Oogling behind.

  “Oogling, your request piqued the sight of the Resonance and workings of Fate.” the King stated, speaking in a sharp male voice that was borderline deafening.

  “You jest, King. The Fate doesn't go this far.” Oogling urged, and his head flashed with lightning as he bowed his head.

  “Than heed no light of mine, as this creature seeks remedy farther than mine.”

  “King needs no remedy, for it the King is always right.”

  “Resonance,” the king said, “is always right. It seeks what is right and fixes what is wrong, but should be right. That is night wrong. We don't do as much as we should. Many Realms don't do anything of that sort. You, on the ground, what wrongs have you committed to seek no remedy of my strands?”

  Murai forced himself to stand up; his body was a wreck, with almost no light dust within him appeasing his overall feelings. Many were already settled, mended with his overall duck appearance. It either mixed or went deeper, leaving his wings, beak, and eyes distinct with a new glimmer.

  “You remind me of someone, giant buffoon,” Murai snarly said. “It is just fitting. Light and darkness. Hell, it isn't fitting, I know, but isn't that the correct base of this world? Considering how they all loved me and fought me and wanted me prided and killed.”

  “Fixing is no gift. It could be a curse at you.”

  “Fix a curse with a curse, huh?” Murai cocked his head, “Are you fucking kidding me?! Is this a matter of something or someone I should know? It doesn't make a fucking sense!”

  “In any way, what goes around always finds its way back together or turns a bit worse. This has been a mistake.” The King said and pulled his crown away from his head. Weirdly, he had full fingers on his hands—all of them looking thick, fine, and human.

  Then, he glanced at the lines making his crown.

  “Brightlife. The Origin cracked into thousands of Shards. There was a loud noise where nothing was. Darkness and Light lived beside each other, making differences and lines out of Nowhere. Now, it no longer goes anywhere, but that past is still Somewhere. If anything, perhaps this is the way this should've gone long ago, yet the change never came, because who would find their way in such a successive and excessive way? Only a madman would, one might reckon?”

  “What do you mean?” Murai asked.

  “You are an unfortunate soul, are you?” the King asked. “For it, you seek no guidance from Resonance. Resonance seeks something from you because this is about you being right and still living. You die a lot. You are the lucky one, while we should be happy or derisive. Wrong, yes. This is bordering on Reality. The Above might not like this. They won't like you!”

  Murai gave up; it seemed this giant buffoon was completely disregarding him, yet kept talking to him like a father to a child, giving him lessons and obnoxious regards.

  Linning backed all the way back to Oogling, who wasn't happy with her for some reason.

  The King pinched one line from the crown, looking like a shard of destroyed weapon, which winced between his fingers, glimmering in haze and light, and many little lines.

  “A point.”

  “Your point from your arse?” Murai demanded and started to glow in a black and white storm.

  “Guidance. Light seeks the shadows, no? Without it, what rules are there? Also no. This is about watering the plants.”

  “You speak gibberish. Just kill me and get it over with. I bet you are from Reality, aren't you? Who sent you here? What have you--”

  A simple line pierced his head, turning to needles, and cutting his words and mind apart.

  Millions of needles rose from that single object and obliterated him in an instant, crashing the platform and creating a Singularity. An event of the horizon when light found formidable, unnatural patterns.

  Light trashed with nothing unless asked, and the one called found the pit of darkness with more than a hundred voices echoing within.

  Murai felt insane after all. He was insane, but also a gift. He was fine with being the stubborn one who grew and handled it well, even if he shouldn't. He didn't like it, but this thing entered him on no accord because it was well beyond the likes of him. The Light that could coexist, it seemed like.

  “King,” Oogling said beside the giant, who hovered in the air as half of the observatory ceased to exist. It was still expanding, but this trio was fine. They were in their home.

  “Is this wise?”

  “Who is to tell it?” the King kept observing the Singularity, and sounded much more relaxed after a while.

  “Resonance?”

  “Things happen for a reason, Oogling. There are ways to prevent mishaps, and ways of rules are then mere hindrances. For this one to seek this place, Resonance doesn't deserve a change. The Reality does. It is not about us. This isn't about this Realm. Nothing is about this Realm. We are wrong.”

  “S-sir...” Oogling bowed. “Then, has it all been for naught? Why haven't you intervened? What chance could we accomplish?”

  “Observing feed actions. Light glints and proceeds to most fates. For the bit of light to go into this one, it means a chance of harmony.” The King remained watching as something insane stirred, dimming the soundings and cracking apart most of the bridge.

  A few stubborn King Strands shivered, either turning to dust and becoming part of this nonsense. Murai lost his sense of reason and became a storm lost in this thing.

  Lining tried to look as well, devoid of knowledge of the Old Ones but full of his meaning. She hovered behind Oogling and the King, who protected her against the swallowing Singularity caused by the Origin Shard.

  She could only dream that she would meet this one again, walk through matters, words, and wisdom they hadn't talked about, or hope that the Bond would be fine next time. She wished for another adventure. To run away from this, and then... everything.

  “We will see him again,” the King whispered. “I fear the next circumstances. It is the inevitability of Fate that let things slip, and we have been slacking and dimming for light years. Oogling, make preparations.”

  “Yes, sir...?”

  “And you, little light, there must be something you want to do.”

  Linning jerked, wondering why the King turned to her and regarded her for the first time in forever. “W-what?”

  “Something is growing in that peculiar direction. I fear we have been overlooking distance and close matters for too long. They grew arrogant in front of our light. We can come to that derision ourselves, right, Oogling?”

  “You mean...”

  “Why no wage the old time's sake?” the King said and laughed, turning his eye at Murai's direction. “This won't happen again. Never. Why the hell not become more than lines and veils before the shadows?”

  ***

  What felt like many hours later, Lightbright Realm was far away from anything else, yet close like air to the Ultra Materium.

  In a cave where Murai felt nothing, as he wasn't there with his Will, Lisa kept observing his condition, unbeknownst to the concerning reality of the Resonance Realm of Light and Brightness that was far beyond her imagination.

  She had no idea what had happened behind the scenes. She couldn't even guess what he would take out of there simply because of the sheer stupidity of Anatidae's upbringing. She did not make this possible, but she sure as hell made it adequate and knocking. It was her damn fault and she wasn't feeling bad about it even a little bit.

  Just a single King made the move, yet it was enough to warrant a change in Fate.

  Time moved on, with a lot of things that made sense, or were far away from it, depending on who was right and close. Lisa remained glued to Murai's experiences and expressions since a part of his sentiments were perceived by her tries.

  Even if he was gone, the Resonance was not, and the Ultra Materium kept playing its part, glinting, disappearing forever, and creaking. Lisa experimented and tried to get what she wished for, and found no light in the end.

  It involved the body for the most part, and Lisa had no clue what his Will was undergoing because it had yet to involve the flesh.

  This didn't provide her with any benefits. It was just an assurance that the Resonance was proceeding well for the past few hours.

  No question could advance answers to her head, but questions and doubts could be raised by her vastness. The only right choice was the word trust, followed by possibility, and consequence. Murai was full of them, while she was also no different, but the relation and where to draw that line messed her considerably.

  Again, she was the shameless one in this relation. As she should.

  Lisa couldn't guess what he was gaining from this, as the Light cruising through these Ultra Materium veins weighed a ton in her perception, while a lone duck sitting in a cracking, glowing ground kept up with it.

  For it to go so heavy for such a little mess, she wondered if he could make it work.

  “What kind of Light does he feel? The bright side, the sharp side, or the kind that cruises past everything, or even against him? Am I thinking about it wrongly? Will it be disastrous, or will the Ultra Materium show its color, or will a bit of the Realm accept his course? They should if they aren't stupid. It is just luck that is stupid. Nothing else.” Lisa said, assuring herself.

  “What about the Mother that descended? She talked about daring time, so is this it? I knew this would get suspicious since Anatidaes are creatures of hopeless matters that changed and became... somewhat ridiculous. It's all about pride, yet they can't get it. They are still hopeless, yet... this one worked because he is the Old One. No. Wait. They don't matter, so is it because of his Curse?”

  “Well, what if it isn't all shiny? He shouldn't dare to take this lightly because of... a lot of things, yet what is lost or not isn't always right. His body is the sponge, and his Will takes the weight of it the moment the Resonance initiates the comeback. Let's hope it goes there. The former could be a problem, though.”

  Seven hours went by in a blink, yet the cave continued in its brilliance. Murai was slowly starting to catch his Will, notably by wriggling of his feathers and head, and Lisa felt as if something massive within him was beginning to churn and return.

  She felt his distress when one massive consequence shuddered his sitting position, stopping cracks to trash around the cave and Ultra Materium as if everything halted, light and air included. The aura that pertained in the air next shocked Lisa.

  She didn't need anything physical to get what was incoming, but she felt as if anything alive here would become dead at any moment. Murai still sat, unmoving and devoid of his Will.

  “Holy shit...” Lisa clenched her fists, flaring her eyes in shock and awe. “What... in the hellspawn...”

  The predisposition of the Singularity was stabilizing, looking otherworldly, and his Will began to take its form from the lands in the gap. It was rather forceful, yet he took everything he could out of there, even if it was irritating and sudden.

  The Resonance was a pain in the butt, and he gained not just some light out of it. Words created a true challenge, and those talks made him different like fighting for his damn soul. It kind of mixed until he felt his loss come through acceptance. The same was true for rewards.

  So when Lisa saw the last part she had anticipated for a while, the mere glint of that light and final push-back crashed her spirit and pushed forward. Obliterated—or liberated—Ultra Materium flared in shakes, and even rocks turned to dust. Explosions of crashing noises spread, and the cave became a mess.

  The Light that spread and appeared out of nowhere was bizarre and resembled a blink. It was calling, after all, coming from a gap, and it was savage and accepting who Murai was in Will and body. Every Resonance was unique, but this time around, something ancient had awakened and materialized back in the Epochverse.

  Murai opened his eyes.

  It was a strange feeling. His Bloodline wanted it more than him, yet his acceptance, learning, and head seemed alright. It was the instinct he quenched since he got to this body, and it was and felt heavy, and he barely recognized Reality. Returns were always strange. He assumed it must be the cause of his distress.

  He remembered the Children, the Oogling—and even that smiling, sick bastard. In the end, they cracked him with a Shard of Brightlife itself, changing the course of Fate alongside his, or maybe they were doing it for themselves from the very beginning.

  Oh, how he wished to smack their tides. They had no idea what they prevented or let escape. He could have destroyed everything.