What is this?
Lady of Lust—
How dare you!

You are mine to command,
Yet your gaze falters,
Entranced by something so fleeting,
So mortal,
So 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡.

What could a mortal pawn possess,
To steal your devotion from my sovereignty?

Your eyes,
Once lifted to my perfection,
Now fall upon him.

𝐻𝑖𝑚.

A mortal man.

A creature of false beauty.

A disgusting,
Imperfect,
𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.

Why do you call him beautiful?
Does his form rival mine?

𝑁𝑜.

It cannot.

It must not.

But still, your gaze lingers.
Your sinful obsession festers.

What an affront!
His false beauty,
His mere existence,
Mocks me.

Mocks my supremacy.


𝐻𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.


I will destroy him.
I will tear this illusion apart.

For no mortal shall dare ascend to my beauty.
No rival shall dare surpass my beauty.

Lady of Lust,
You will obey me.
You will take him,
Taint him,
𝐸𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

You will never worship such 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 again.

You will desecrate his name,
Expose his flaws,
Prove his ugliness.

Through you,
𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

And Justice—
Lady Justice—

You will bow to me too.

Your scales will tip as I command.

Through you,
𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑥𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

For no beauty can persist but 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒.

I am Pride,
Perfection incarnate.

ABOVE MORTALS.

ABOVE GODS.

ABOVE ALL.

I stole diamonds because they were beautiful.

She stole me because I was beautiful.

And then, by your hand, we all died.


But I refused to leave.
I stubbornly remain.
To gaze upon this Iron Angel…
𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙.

You've waited all this time.

To be stolen.

By this Diamond Devil.

Because you are beautiful.
𝑆𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙.

Well, I am the thief of beautiful things.
So, you, Iron Angel—

YOUR LIFE IS MINE TO TAKE.


I shall take you, Pride,
To your disappointing doom.

Since by your own logic,
You are not worthy of life.
𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡.


You truly are beautiful,
As they all say.



But
I
am


𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐩.

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝.

𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔.



Oh, puppet.
You were never meant to live.

The pride of your mother, Power?
No.
You are simply the vanity of your creator.


No longer your victim, I return,
Through my masterful transformation.

In honor of Revenge,
And his broken-hearted friend, Redemption,
It is time.

Iron Angel,

𝑊𝑖𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛.

For I am no Man of Greed.
I am no Diamond Devil.
No.


They may bow before an Iron Angel.


But that angel shall crumble.


Under the gaze—


𝑶𝑭 𝑨 𝑮𝑶𝑫.



I AM THE ONE,

WHO SHALL BRING YOU NOT TO YOUR KNEES,

BUT TO YOUR END.


The Man of Greed was stolen by the Lady of Lust.

So, the Diamond Devil stands against the Iron Angel.



AND IT IS THE GOD, DECEPTION,

𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑾𝑰𝑵𝑺.

"She stands some nights upon the bridge—"
"Not stands—she lingers, watching still."
"They say she hums—"
"She doesn’t hum—she curses."

The wind shifts—barely, lightly, unnoticed, as if eavesdropping.

"She waits for him—"
"She waits for none."
"She never moves—"
"And yet her shadow shifts each dawn."

It bends along the tethered line, a whisper slithering through the air.
It lingers, pressing past the stone, a hush that settles, soft yet bare.

"She waits for him—"
"She waits for none—no lover lost."
"She does not move—"
"She walks the bridge! At dusk, she’s crossed!"

The wind shifts—only slightly, leaning against the hollow arch, curling like an unanswered breath.

"She never speaks—"
"No! She calls—"
"A name—his name, they swear it’s true!"
"Then tell me—what name does she cry?"
"A sailor—"
"No, a poet—"
"No, a fool who left her there to die!"

"That’s a lie—she didn’t wait."
"She killed him!"
"No—she wept!"
"She cursed his name—"
"She called him back—"
"She sent him to the depths!"

"But what was it? The name she hisses?"
"No one knows—no one stays long."
"Not to hear—"
"Not to listen—"
"Not to meet the same unlucky fate."

The wind bends against the iron frame, meandering through the fractured stone.
It lingers, silently clinging to fractured facades, unseen upon the tethered known.

"Then why does ocean keep his name?"
"What name?"
"The one she cries."
"No one hears it—"
"That’s a lie."

"If she calls, the tide returns—"
"She does not call—"
"Then what is left?"
"No one asks."

"But someone heard it once—"
"A whisper—"
"A breath—"
"No! A cry—"
"And then the storm arrived."

"That’s just the wind—"
"Then why did the waves pull stronger?"
"No one knows—"
"No one stays—"
"No one wants to suffer the same fate."

The wind shifts—steady, bending against the breath of night.

"She waits upon the bridge at dawn—"
"She waits for none—she does not breathe!"
"She lingers still—"
"She does not linger—she does not leave!"
"She never moves—"
"She walks at dusk!"
"She watches close—"
"No! She’s a vampire that feeds!"
"She drowned—"
"She burned—"
"She swayed—"
"She fell—"
"She never died at all!"

It pulls along the weathered stone, a breath that lingers, drawn but slight.
It threads through the iron frame, a breath drawn deep against the night.

"You’re all wrong!"
"I know the truth!"

The wind stills.

"She haunts the bridge—"
"She waits for none—"
"She waits to drown them all!"

"She drowned her love—a poet!"
"He wrote for the moon!"
"He wrote for her—"
"He did not—he saw only the moon!"
"And she was jealous—"
"And she dragged him down!"

"She drowned him, yes!"
"And now she waits—"
"She sees them cross—"
"She sees them happy—"
"And she takes them!"
"She pulls them down!"
"She waits at night!"
"She watches close!"
"And if you cross the bridge—"
"She will drag you into the water!"
"She will drown you too!"

It pulls along the fractured beams, its tether tight, its sorrow bound.
It curls beneath the shuttered doors, a breath now sharp, interrupting the hush profound.

It grips—tenses—knots against the arch, coiled within the hollow halls.
It tightens, pressing through the streets, coils against the stone walls.

Then—

It rises. It bends. It twists. It breaks.

It wails.

"It’s true!"
"It must be!"
"She’s angry!"
"The storm warns us!"
"The wind confirms it!"

The wind lashes out—hard, sharp, reckless— slamming against doors, rattling shutters, clawing at rooftops, howling through the streets.

They scream. They scatter. They run.

It pulls along the broken eaves, a breath too strong, too deep, too wide.
It twists, it surges, then it flees— a hush before the rising tide.

Doors slam. Voices vanish. The streets fall silent.

The wind does not linger any longer.
It turns—sharp, sudden, surging somewhere in the distance.

When greed and lust meet…
𝑆𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑛 𝑢𝑔𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.


She caught me in her tight grasp.
She wouldn’t let me go,
She wouldn’t let me go.
I was trapped inside,
𝐴𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙.

A diamond devil,
Trapped within her,
𝐴 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒.


Lady of Lust,
Man of Greed.
We had a deal,
We made an agreement.
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡.

I wanted diamonds,
You wanted me.
So you gave me diamonds,
And I gave you me.
But when our time was up,
And I wanted to leave,
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑒.

We are both sinners,
But you—
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙.

I was willing to give,
But not let you take.
Not let you steal,
Beyond the bounds,
Of mutual benefit.
But you took,
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑.


I wanted diamonds,
You wanted me.
You were my tool,
And I was your doll.
I humanize such pretty things.
You dehumanize,
𝑂ℎ, 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑚𝑒.

I was so pretty,
𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑠𝑜 𝑢𝑔𝑙𝑦.

Lustful Lady,
You are evil.
And I,
Man of Greed,
𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑙.


Intoxicating lies,
Never as beautiful,
As real jewels.
That's why I wear these diamonds,
To hide this ugly…
𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒.


You couldn’t deceive me,
But you sure could use me.
And you sure did.
Oh, how amusing,
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.


You couldn't fool me,
But you could fool them.
And you sure did.
Oh, what an actress,
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒.

I stole diamonds,
Because they were beautiful.
You stole me,
Because I was beautiful.
I stole diamonds,
You stole attention.
𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑.


Of course I said I could love her—
𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟.

She got addicted,
Just like I did.
I wanted diamonds,
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒.

We were both selfish,
Appeasing our addictions.
𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙.

We stole.
Not just me.
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑒.


I love pretty words,
Truth or lie.  
Their elegance, I like.
I hate ugly words,
Truth or lie.
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑦, 𝐼 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑠𝑒.

I told her pretty words,
So she could smile a semi-precious smile,
And she gave me pretty jewels in exchange.
I stole diamonds,
Because they were beautiful.
And she stole me,
𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙.


This Diamond Devil,
Whispering truths,
They will not believe,
For I am too pretty for honesty.
I cannot be deceived,
So, the deceiver,
I surely must be.
𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑑.


Never again.
No justice for the dead.
So I refuse to die—
Not to your lies,
𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

I foresee not,
The death you’ve wished for.
I will be here,
Long after you're gone.
I will be here,
Reclaiming what you stole—
𝑀𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦.

I took a gamble,
And I lost.
I could have foreseen this fall,
But I played,
And I lost.
I played the wrong game,
But now I know,
𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒.


Lustful Lady,
I am the master of deception now.
I foresee every trap you lay,
𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒’𝑠 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒.

She cheated and played the victim,
𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟.

And what do we do,
When we can’t bear it anymore?
We tear such pretty things—
𝑇𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠.

My breath is thin, my  voice—frayed,  my hands unsteady at the rail.
I reach, but stars will not descend. I speak, but tides will not return.
Alone, I stand—against the mist, met by death, my fingers frail.
I call, but winds will not respond. As I mourn, it only mocks.

“I have waited, called in vain upon the waves that do not heed.
If the sea keeps the one I love, then I must go where he is kept.
Perhaps you speak the truth, it is your master I must meet.
How could I stay on this land when he is lost, he is silenced, he is stolen?”



𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑠, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑠, 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠, 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑠— 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘.
𝐼𝑡 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑠. 𝐼𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑠.
𝐼𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠, 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑠, 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑠, 𝑖𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠— 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛’𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ.
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡.
𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑓, 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒.



𝐀𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫.
𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬.
𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.

𝐌𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝. 𝐍𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐝𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐧𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭.
𝐀𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫.

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬.
“𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐝,
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥.”


“I shall go — not as surrender, nor as one who fears your claim.
The sea may take this flesh and bone, but never shall it touch my soul.
I seek no pardon, need no grace — my path remains the same.
If life should fail, then my soul shall rise, eternal, fierce, and whole.”



𝐼𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠, 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑— 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟, 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑒.
𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑— 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘, 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒.
𝑁𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛. 𝑁𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡. 𝑌𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝— 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑓. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒.

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛—

𝐴𝑡 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡.



Where is its cry? Where is its protest? Where is its wail against fate?
I exhale, voice brittle— “Ah, even the wind agrees— it’s time to confront the sea.”
I breathe defiance—shattered, torn. I know breath will soon break beneath the killer’s rage.
“Let it destroy my last breath, as it releases my soul. Let it free me— so I may find my love.”



𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑’𝑠 ℎ𝑢𝑠ℎ, 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑, 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟’𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑠 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟.
𝑃𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑤ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑, 𝑝𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑠.




“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥.
𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞,
𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚.”




𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠—𝑎ℎ, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒?
𝐷𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚?
𝐷𝑜𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡𝑦, 𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡?
𝑂𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑒𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠—𝑎𝑛 𝑢𝑟𝑔𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑔ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦?



I loosen my grip against the rail—my fingers frail. Yet still they hold determination.
“You lie, you twist, you tell the tale— But I do not, will not, waver.”
I release my grip against the rail, my breath against the tide.
My thoughts unmoored, my will unshaken —as fate urges me to climb.



𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑠—𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛, 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠.
𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦—𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚.
𝐼𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑡ℎ?



“𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝.
𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞.”



I stand upon the rail— But standing is temporary.
I breathe— But breath is fleeting.
“I will go.”



“𝐷𝑂𝑁’𝑇!”
𝑂ℎ, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤—𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒?



I step— But steps falter.
I move— But movement tilts toward descent.
“I will find him.”


“𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑃!”
𝐿𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛, 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟— 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡.


I press forward— But forward is unknown.
I fall— For falling is freedom.
“We will be reunited.”

“𝐴𝐿𝐶𝑌𝑂𝑁𝐸, 𝑃𝐿𝐸𝐴𝑆𝐸 𝑊𝐴𝐼𝑇!”
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 —
𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒.

“𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞.
𝐌𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬’ 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞,
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞."

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛—
𝐴 𝑠𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑠ℎ.

𝐴 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟—𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒—𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛—
𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.

𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑠—ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒, 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑚𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑤, ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑑.

“𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫.
𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭, 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐧. 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧.
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩.
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲.
𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝?
𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰? 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝.”

That stranger… No… Not a stranger… Before he followed her into the water…
He whispered… "𝐼’𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑆𝑜, 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ."
I felt it. Something unfamiliar. Something… 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔? No… not wrong… Wanted… needed…

𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛… 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑… 𝐼𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡ℎ… 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚… 𝐼 𝑙𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑔𝑜…

But that would mean… I… I… I 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑑… I… 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑.
I have one duty… This stranger… this man… No, Wind… No… friend…?

No, no, he is the enemy of my master. The fate, the sea, the tides… I owe her. I serve. I 𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑦. Because I must… 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡…?

I have always been loyal to my master… Or… ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐼 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡…? What’s the difference? Surely… surely there isn’t…

𝑅𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡…?

And yet… I have this instinct...
For her, my master… 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔. Only silence… Only orders... Only fate’s grip... 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑘… A command given… A command… 𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑑.

But with him… I cooperate. Not because I must. Because I… I don’t know him. But I… trust?

Perhaps he lies. Perhaps he deceives. It seems I wouldn’t be able to tell... But… friend or not, perhaps I was… perhaps I am… Loyal to him?  

My master, I obeyed. Without thought… Without feeling... I simply… I only ever… 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑑... Because I had no option. It had never occurred to me… To decide…

But this stranger, this man, no, Wind, no, friend?
I don’t know, but he must be…important to me…
After all this time, I… think... I feel. And I… agree. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑦.

I agree… Not with thought, but with… heart…? My heart…? Do I have that? This… illogical intuition?
𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤... 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡… Because I haven’t felt. I haven’t thought. And what’s the point if I can’t… If I can’t… 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟?

𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡… This… friend…? This… fool?
I am dutiful, and yet… I am… 𝑠𝑎𝑑…

The sea never made me sad... Isn’t it mercy… to be… 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑦? Wasn’t it relief… 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔…?

𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠. 𝐼 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑤𝑓𝑢𝑙, 𝐼’𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑… But I want it.
This pain… Somehow a blessing. Somehow… almost freedom... 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑦𝑒𝑡. Just the promise…

If only he does not lie nor jest… If only he teaches me… what to do with such… 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑦…

𝐴 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑… 𝑜𝑓 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ…?  Can it be? What… Who is he to 𝑚𝑒…?

I… I only know… what fate said… No… She never said… As if he never existed…
But… But he does… But he knows me…
And I… I’ve… 𝐼’𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛… Someone… So… So… 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒.

I don’t know. I don’t like it. But I want it… The patience… To wait for…

All I know is… he is right. And without him… without the truth… 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.
All I know is… when I held him in my grasp… meant to restrain… 𝐻𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒… And I didn’t want to stand in his way any longer… 𝑆𝑜, 𝐼 𝑙𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑔𝑜…

I could not bring myself to oppose his desire. Not because I couldn’t… But because I… just… 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡…

Was that a choice…? 𝑀𝑦 choice…? No longer compelled 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒… But a decision I made…?

“𝐼’𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢,” he whispered. And I… I agreed.
𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑔𝑛𝑖𝑧𝑒… Yet these supposed memories… of someone 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑…
Have somehow… 𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑… No… No… They were… 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛? Stolen by… by my… master…?
Fate… the sea… who… what is she? I… I’ve never really known… I just… I just… 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑑…

𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒, Wind… But you know me. But I want you to be right. I want you to return. I want you to help me understand.
𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛… This time… 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢… This time… Knowing who you are… 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑐𝑘. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙. 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑦. 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡… 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙.
But you… must be. Because you’re the only thing that has made me feel. Feel… 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠. Despite…

Is it possible…? That I am…? That I will be…? That I might return to…
Something…? Someone…?

She told me I was perfect… For I was free of joy… Free of pain... 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔…. For death is her servant… Not… 𝑚𝑒.

I am Death, and yet… She spoke of me… Like a 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔…  
Was I perfect… because I was… 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔? Flawless… because I was… ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔?
𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑… 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑑? 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼…

Please, hurry back, my… friend?
I have questions. I have… 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛.

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛’𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟. What it’s like to be… more than nothing. How to be someone. Not… ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.

You fool… You’ve made me feel… Without teaching me…ℎ𝑜𝑤…𝑤ℎ𝑦...
Come back... Come back for me… Teach me…

Please return, share these missing memories. Please return, share… your company.
𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒…

𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦, 𝑎𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑. 𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦… 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦… 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

Please come back, my dear fool... 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒…
I need you.
I need guidance… I don’t understand this rebellion, this freedom, these… feelings…
𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒.

𝐼’𝑚 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔… 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑡ℎ.
𝐼’𝑚 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔…


For you.

Plastic heroes are dirt cheap
Plastic heroes are practically free.
Don't worry, there's no risk
No one knows the difference

Maximum fame, minimum effort
Sounds great for you
For me, translates to
Maximum pain, minimum pride

Because it was never mine
It belongs to my creators

I was never brave
It was always so easy
Too easy for me because
I was too afraid—
To disappoint
To fail

Paint me orange and white
Drop me in the road
Claiming it to be a necessity
That there is no other use for me

I became your plastic hero
Made for your convenience

Maximum fame, minimum effort
Sounds great for you
You got nothin’ to lose
But for me, translates to
Maximum pain, minimum pride

Because it was never mine
It belongs to my creators

"No" sounds so nice
Toddlers got it right
But "wasted potential"
Doesn't feel so good after all


Well, sorry—guess I decided
To be more than what you made me for


I can't wait for some dumb kid
To steal me off the street
I'd rather be a silly-looking hat
Than get crushed beneath your wheels

It hurts to let you down
But I've got my own purpose now

Better to be wasted potential
In your eyes than wrecked in mine
I'd rather be a disappointment
Than let you steal all of my pride

Plastic heroes are dirt cheap
Maximum fame, minimum effort
Plastic heroes are risk-free
Until they're liberated from the street

“I know not the bonds between this earth's gods,
Nor did I know of their existence.
But one truth stands, clear even to this fool,
You do not love him; your grip is insidious.

Seeking their true face, clarity after strife,
Men gaze upon the water and find their reflection.
Yet you seek a scapegoat to shield you from truth,
You've gazed upon a man and found your projection.

Oh, cruel Fate, I care not if my words cut deep,
What you claim as love is clear obsession.
You steal, you bind, you tighten your invasive grip,
Your logic is twisted, your fevered aggression."


"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝!? 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋! 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃! 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄! 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐌𝐄!"


"No, you are wounded by nothing but jealousy.
I know not your past, but I’ve been audience to your grievanship.
Let me guess, you swore your love, and so confessed he,
You demanded romance; he pledged friendship.

And this you could not accept, so you gave into delusion.
You scorned such devotion to his dearest friend, beyond your claim,
Upon land where you could not conduct your cruel intrusion.
You would not respect his heart, so you declared him yours to tame.

Until you lured Death to the sea, by drowning lost sailors,
And that is when you stole his memory, made him your thrall.
So you could finally rise above all supposed traitors,
And take revenge on one who never owed you love at all.  
You clung to him, a phantom, fading and thin,
I've met Death. So empty, nothing. You stripped the soul within."


"𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒! 𝐘𝐨𝐮— 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬— 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞
𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐓!"


"Oh, delusional Sea, I suppose you've saved them, just as you've saved me?"


"𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌!"


"And what debt did Death owe… whatever title you please,
Fate, The Tide, The Ocean, The Waves, The Sea?"


"𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍!
𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧! 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝! 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬—𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧, 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲! 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐲!? 𝐒𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬—𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄!?
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞—𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄! 𝐇𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐄! 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞—𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐄!
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐛𝐞!

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮—𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓! 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮—𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐃! 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒!
𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞—𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫—𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐈’𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭."


"Oh, but I care not what you perceive."


"𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄, 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐋."


"You know, but won’t feel. You know, but won't accept.
You know, yet still you are blinded by delusion.
Had you loved him, you would have shown him respect.
Had you loved him, you would have waited with resolution.

I need not preach our love to you. I need only wait until I may return.
And I know that though you have sent Death to her, aloof,
She will persist, her faith still stern.
If I can resist, then so can she, for I have always been the weaker of us two.
Twist what you foresee, yet love is true and thus immune to your intervening.
I'd say my prediction is skewed in manner, but not in meaning."


"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲."


The Tide constricts, she wrenches, twists, and wrings,
Yet still my soul remains. Though punished, though pressed.
Her weight deforms, her current snaps and attempts to devour,
Yet still, I call my beloved’s name. Fate’s torture leaves me whole no less.

Alcyone! Alcyone! Alcyone! Heed my call,
Though Fate grips, The Ocean seeks to steal what remains of my form.
The Sea may break me, yet still I refuse to yield,
For my vow endures beyond The Tide’s manic storm!

Fate pulls, she coils. She sadistically longs to see me shatter,
Longs to crush, to strip, to render all undone.
Yet I still endure. I still call beyond her desperation,
Alcyone! Alcyone! Alcyone! I am not gone.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗄𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗌, 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁. 𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾—

𝖨 𝖿𝗅𝗒.

𝖨𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗍, 𝖠 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆. 𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝗎𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗂𝗆𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝖱𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗆—𝖮𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍, 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅, 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗍.

𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝖿𝗍. 𝖬𝗒 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇— 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐— 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾.

𝖢𝖾𝗒𝗑, 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾—𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗆𝖾, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾.
𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾.  


Alcyone, you can't understand me in this formless state. But please, keep calling. He cannot see, but sight has no need.
He knows. He knows this is the call of not just any tern, but the song of his soulmate.
Love need not search; it remembers.

Your love splits through her jealousy like thunder through silence. Your voice cuts deeper than The Ocean.
We will bring him back. No force, not even Fate, can swallow love’s call.



𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩, 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯,
𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘦𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.
𝘔𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥,
𝘔𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘺. 𝘈 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥. 𝘍𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵,
𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦’𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘶𝘯𝘺𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥,
𝘈𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳.

𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦,
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘦𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭.
𝘕𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭,
𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘈𝘭𝘤𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭.

𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩, 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦.



The Sea tightens her grip. Crushing, drowning, consuming. She does not release. She does not relinquish.
But I flow, yielding where she presses. I create space within her destructive hold. I unravel tension, shifting weight. I do not clash, I redirect. I do not force, I soothe until Fate’s chaotic waters pause. A whisper within her storm that steals. I restore Ceyx’s breath, I give him chance.

Alcyone calls,
Her voice, the beacon,
And I, the way.


𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘦𝘢’𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥,
𝘈𝘭𝘤𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭.
𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦’𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵. 𝘚𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥.
𝘈 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵,
𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯.
𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘪𝘥,
𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘮, 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯,
𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦, 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘴, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴.  


𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦.  


𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘬, 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴.
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯.
𝘔𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.
𝘏𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺.
𝘈𝘴 𝘐 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦’𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘦. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦.
𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘸.

𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦’𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘱, 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮.
𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘥.
𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴,
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦.

𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭. 𝘔𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱, 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺,  
𝘈𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘫𝘰𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.
𝘛𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘺.


Go. Both of you, get out of here. Fly fast, do not look back. Go keep him company, the one who still waits for me. Who still waits… to reclaim himself.

I’ll distract her just a moment longer, before I find you, and we too, may return together, Death, or shall I say…

The Sea surges, recoiling from the release of her prisoner, snapping in fury. But I do not step aside.
Now, her dark eyes fix upon me alone.

I remain, standing where escape has already been granted, for Ceyx and Alcyone. Storm petrel and tern, eternally free at last, carried away by those wings of waiting.
And now, Fate and I are alone.



Her voice does not rage. Not yet. It soothes. It coddles. Unbearably kind.


"𝐎𝐡, 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝? 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡? 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮? 𝐈𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞?"


She does not command, not yet.
She’s just explaining, obviously. As is the nature of The Tide. Retreating. Coaxing. Returning.
Her words mimic the shape of conversation, but never its substance.


"𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐇𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫.  𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝."


I don’t move. I don’t speak. There is nothing I can say.


"𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?. 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐞."


It is my choice who receives my affection, not hers.
I chose whom I gave my loyalty to. And that is a choice she will never accept.
But still, there is nothing I can say.


"𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬? 𝐇𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞. 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧. 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟. 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝."


Her words are a salve for wounds she inflicted herself. Her demands are a balm laced with venom.
Oh, sorry, not demands. She does not demand. Not according to her.
No, she offers. So kindly, she only welcomes.
She welcomes me to put out my arms so she may chain them with ease.
There’s nothing I can say.


“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮? 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮."


Ah yes, because I’m the one who needs forgiveness.
I do not answer. And Fate knows why.
But she won’t accept why.
She does not call it rejection. She calls it error.
She does not lose, nor does she forgive.  She simply revises.
Because autonomy, sorry, I mean defiance, is a glitch.  
And love is submission, sculpted into the shape of her choosing.

But I am no error. I am not clay.
The only error exists in her wounded mind.
I am here to retrieve what does not belong to her.
But there is nothing I can say.
So my silence remains.

And just like any choice I dare make,

She’s displeased with my mistake.


The sweetness cracks at the edges. Her fantasy dissolves into fury.
The Sea swells. She attempts to pull the sky taught. She rises, The Waves, attempting to close the distance between us.


"𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐌𝐄, 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃? 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐌𝐄, 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀. 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑."


She cannot comprehend silence. She cannot bear a world she doesn’t orchestrate.
I have seen every iteration of this.
Her cyclical, delusional, broken mind cannot tolerate frustration, sorry, imperfection.
It makes no difference. Whether I give her appeasement, resistance, pity, silence.
It all ends the same. There is nothing I can say. Nothing I can do.


"𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄!? 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄! 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐌𝐄! 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃, 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔!? 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄! 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔!? 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍!? 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!"


I sigh. She cannot be helped. She cannot be reached. And I…
I cannot keep trying.
But I can protect. I can use her obsession. To stall long enough for the lovers to gain enough distance.


"𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄! 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔!?"


Yes. The Sea always breaks in violence. That is her proof. That is her paradise.
The Sea erupts. And the two birds are long gone.


At last, it’s time to stop stalling.