His immediate faintness dissipated as quickly as it appeared. The pain spread and permeated every wisp of his being, inducing his weak existence to an unjust condemnation.
But still, he had not resigned himself to the untimely fate as opportune. His life was neither eternal pain nor living tragedy, but he still took pride in holding enough threads to guide the waves across an empty sea.
Only that being completely immobile, without the power to decide or the possibility of creating a change, made it a little impossible for him...
But he recognized with extreme clarity that taking an emotional role in such a situation would result in unknown results.
From the beginning he formulated a priority: to maintain the slightest glimmer of consciousness, fighting heroically, focused on her abilities to analyze the situation, in the hope of finding a solution.
Although jokes about orphans, disabled people, and creepy old people interspersed his thoughts, he did his best...
But at that moment, unexpectedly, the previous purple energy that had permeated the dark abode branched into countless threads, covering and connecting the figure as if it were a nerve center.
"Does it feel like hair is growing on your balls?"
Through this action, remaining power escaped and struck the outside terrain. As if it were celestial power, it caused changes in the composition, filling the previously barren terrain with vitality.
In an instant, the figure underwent an immediate role change. Owner and servant, there was no possibility of distinguishing him. Undergoing countless transformations in one second, changing the next.
The two energies in blatant combination gave off an energy field that transmitted solemnity to the outside world; ethereal and antiquity, as if they did not position themselves in the world around them or belong to the current era.
In the next instant, he suffered countless teleportations. His appearance was found above the sky, the prairies, mountains, caves, beyond the sky and the hidden abyssal lands...
Until finally his destiny ended in the altitudes, in harmony with the clouds and friendly with the birds.
Only at that moment was Frederick able to express a little autonomy, being able to observe. In the previous moment, his mind had gone out like a candle before a storm.
He was immediately amazed. The gigantic horizons were no longer only occupied by irremovable sand.
He was still in a slight state of confusion about what happened. His only evidence lay in the pressure his small body had to endure...
He had no control, so he couldn't decide the fate. The figure simply took off across the lands, with no apparent fixed destination.
Despite the extraordinary power and origin of the figure, the speed with which it crossed the skies was moderate. One could even speculate if he was confused about the address...
And as if it were a predestined journey, skies crossed with vehemence, mountains flew over beyond the steeps, meadows where life developed they observed, endless lakes presented themselves with occasional splashes that were transported to the heart, in a perfect cycle of nature.
The heavens expressed themselves in an irrepressible way, containing law and order in their essence. Holding eternal separation. Their manners were indistinct and unique, sometimes being white like the cloth of a God or black like imperial ink; The gold was not uncommon, revealing a hint of posterity and new age, the free blue sky being the one who rebelled and yearned for freedom beyond its domain.
"Is the splendid endless sky the ultimate work of every living being?"
Not all sentient beings had intelligence, but they did have understanding. Instinctive or intelligent understanding. There were creatures that did not have the ability to observe the skies and others that did not have the ability to fly over it.
How were they different? In their limited understanding, about life and death, the outside world and the phenomena around them. Not all creatures were deprived of general understanding, but they were limited; even if his wisdom were awakened.
If one were not even awake, one would be immediately deprived by the natural chains. Without expectations and a sealed destiny.
One could not understand concepts beyond its imposed limit and could not overlay its reality. Ending with a slow or violent death, afflicted by illness or old age.
There were endless conjectures and unpredictable answers...
But its passage was not concentrated in the heavens, either ascending or descending.
Being the mountains that stood with dignity, the second attraction that occupied the podium. Noble and ancient, with living ecosystems on them. Different seasons meant different realities; snow, fertility or infertility, were expressed freely arranged in a life cycle.
"Can man take over the character of a mountain, which penetrates the highest jewel and houses life?"
It was a sporadic but vivid thought. Guided by a hand that represented majesty, he pointed out a path without beginning or end, ambitious and unknown.
The first steep tip lay in mortality. One could form incomparable prestige and gather the clamor of countless, but he could not act with the authority of a transcendental being, with mortal destiny and body.
One could simulate unparalleled majesty, subtracting it and nurturing a generation, imparting to the world a lineage... mortal after all.
But such reflections took a backseat, with the addition of a variable: the crystallity and extensions of a lake.
The lakes differed on undetermined variables. Like the special effort of an artist, painting the world. Their forms were not determined and did not share complete assimilation with each other; Its main attraction arose from its action, with violent or calm currents, immaculate or muddy characteristics, assimilating the rock and forming a path by crawling and forces...
"Is it the path of magnificence, to understand the states of the lakes?"
In different lakes, different situations would be found. Dominance, austerity or weakness. They were all formed and evoked from one point, resulting in an ever-changing expanse.
On the surface, their differences were notable; but in essence, it lay notable from its changing capacity. Ignoring the problems in his path, he opened up despite being domineering, austere or weak, forming an end.
Thus, little by little along the way, his analytical intention had been lost in the beauty of nature. In his extensive reflection, he had even forgotten his memory of intelligent life. All his attention was focused on the natural creation, without a hint of importance for the artificial.
During the last period I had discovered that the speed usually increased, as if expressing anxiety.
Until finally, one day or night, the speed increased so greatly that it reached the point that his dream state dissipated into nothing; covering it in a layer of confusion and naivety, as if it were a newborn.
"I'm Frederick, a born fucker. Wait, no."
But time did not allow him to continue expounding his ingenious thoughts and illustrious monologues.
Apparently the direction was determined, to the point that the speed increased at every moment. One moment he was in a desert and the next he was in thriving grasslands.
He could not clearly discern the terrain that surrounded these lands, since his speed defied all physical concepts.
And to their dismay, as if it were a great world gravitationally attracted by a gigantic moon, it descended resoundingly.
Crashing against a physical surface, but one that he passed through by supernatural art. Again, he found himself in nowhere...
He had no companions, he remained solitary. His five senses were suppressed, but he still felt the warmth that helped him cope with the lonely company of nothingness.
Enveloped by the warm embrace, time was distorted.
As if the divine concept of love, affection and delicacy had taken a humanoid and affective form to only embrace him exclusively...
But he had not lost himself in this feeling, although pleasant it was, he did not understand Hestia's ideal: she was not a naive and traditional young woman of divine origin, to establish the idea of remaining until death do them part.
From the beginning he had begun to reform his conscience, trusting in time and virtuous patience; until... One day he regained his senses.
Therefore, in addition to coming up with jokes classified as lighthearted, he had been reflecting on his situation. Although his conception of time was irregular, he had common sense: he knew that he had spent quite a bit of time empowered by this dark place.
So quickly, putting together a few dots, he concluded that it was probably a rebirth. He didn't know if it was divine acting or evil acting, but he didn't care... He had spent more time wishing he wasn't born into an Asian family.
In his previous life he had been black and was proud of it. Although the doctor said that his black egg was due to testicular cancer, his ideals were never extinguished. He clearly recognized when it was a divine punishment for Prometheus.
But finally the day of his birth arrived... In an Asian family.
In fact no, because his first memory in this new life was blond hair.
Caucasian face, curly blonde hair, big red iris eyes. Without a doubt it was an indisputable hegemony in terms of aesthetics. Her beauty was unparalleled, astounding those who witnessed it.
But for Frederick, his red eyes were a great impression, since according to his knowledge these only occurred in albinos exposed to direct sunlight.
"Wh-who is she?"
Again, his consciousness had been devoured by a sense of weakness...
[Name, Pearl Battleman...