There comes a time where every human living on earth has asked this question: Does God exist? And every time, the human finds no concrete answer.
In a place, far far away from earth (yet so infinitely close, one may say), there exists a world of white and silver. Here, no shadows existed, as there was only love, affection and joy. The ground was made of clouds, and the sky was made out of clouds. Yet, it was not cold. Instead, everywhere, warmth exuded this world, though no sun was to be found. Strange.
A young, lonesome boy, in his hand a flute, stood in front of a humongous gate. He had short blond hair and a calming smile. His eyes, though, were pitch-black, filled to the brim, as if absorbing any light that existed—a contrary appearance to this place he stood in. He wore only a white robe, his bare feet grazing the clouds. How he felt, no one knew.
