Stillness solidified, casting a palpable presence that engulfed everything. The air held its breath, and serenity reigned without a single disturbance. It was as if time had come to an unexpected standstill, granting an eternal moment of peace. Yet, the tranquillity could not remain unbroken forever, for the journey of time must inevitably venture into contrasting realms.

     Outside, the deafening roars of the crowd shattered the serenity, flooding the air with their clamour. The furious shouts of men and women clashed against the sky, their voices merging into a cacophony that muffled one's ears. Men's raspy bellows and women's blaring screams rose, reaching towards the heavens and filling the surrounding space.

     The town centre overflowed with mobs, with a seething mass of heads pressing against one another. Fists rose defiantly into the sky, accompanied by resounding voices, while others stood motionless, fixated on the wooden scaffold at the heart of the quadrangle. The atmosphere crackled as the crowd's collective energy surged through the air.

     Massive white buildings encircled the town centre, their imposing presence confining the restless crowds. A towering scaffold stood in the centre of the quadrangle, where men dressed in sombre black attire stood. The sheer number of men and women present filled every inch of available space, rendering the concrete floor invisible beneath their bodies.

     Amidst the crowd, Oliver stood still, shouldering the weight of the crowd pressing against him. He glanced to the left and found Frederick by his side. Further to his left, he saw his companions, Sophia, Edgar, Sarrah, and Bethany, each maintaining a steadfast silence, refraining from speaking or raising their voices.

     Glancing to the right, Oliver's eyes met the familiar gaze of his spouse, Gregory, standing beside him. Their unspoken thoughts hung heavy, with anxiety painted in their eyes. Slowly, their hands found each other as they peered at the wooden scaffold.

     The biting ice-cold wind compels Gregory to seek warmth from his spouse, Oliver. Drawing nearer, Gregory leans into Oliver's embrace, his shoulder brushing against his lover's. As Gregory releases a deep breath, a visible cloud of smoke escapes his lips, dissipating into the frigid air.

     Gregory gradually lifts his gaze skyward, and his eyes meet the foreboding darkness. Above him, dark and ominous clouds loom, pressing heavily against the earth. The thick, greyish-black masses rumble, stretching across the vast expanse of the atmosphere, obscuring the last beam of sunlight.

     The day takes on an eerie semblance of night as deep-black shadows blanket the land. The sky seems to speak, foretelling an imminent drizzle, while the cold wind rustles through the trees. The clouds growl louder, thickening like an impenetrable solid block.

     The crowds part as a creaking wooden carriage enters the town centre. The tired horses neigh, straining as they pull the dilapidated vehicle like a decaying wagon, their hooves tapping on the concrete ground. The mob's faces contort with a feral glare, their raucous roars growing louder, filling the air with their piercing volume.

     Finally, the carriage halts before the wooden scaffold at the heart of the town centre. Its weathered door swings open. Then, the rusty vehicle shudders as footsteps reverberate through its floor.

     A pair of bare feet descends from the carriage, touching the icy concrete below. With each step, Cal moves forward, traversing the sea of divided crowds. His feet, bitten by the cold, send shivers through his body, while his hands remain restrained by ropes, limiting his movement. Firm hands grip each of his arms, belonging to the guards who flank him.

     The resounding roar of the crowd reverberates, seemingly reaching every corner of the globe. Their collective yells cut through the air, overpowering all other sounds and leaving a deafening effect in their wake. The mob's furious shouts echo, their voices drowning out everything. And amidst their tumultuous cries, Cal presses forward, undeterred.

     Cal looks to his left and right, deliberately taking measured steps as he moves ahead. His gaze meets the judgmental stares of numerous women in the crowd, their eyes as sharp as knives that pierce his heart. Feeling their scrutinizing gaze, he quickly averts his eyes, lowering his head and tightly squeezing his eyes shut, attempting to block himself from their judgment.

     As Cal continues his walk, he reopens his eyelids and directs his gaze forward, only to find the wooden scaffold awaiting him. His jaw hangs open. Slowly, he tilts his head upwards, staring at the scaffold's peak.

     Cal's feet ascend the steps of the scaffold, and his pace slows as fear takes hold, attempting to drag him back from his impending fate. With trepidation gripping his every step, he finally reaches the summit. Before him lies a wooden bed—a sight that sends a shock through his veins, freezing him like a statue.

     Two men cloaked in black robes approach Cal. They firmly grasp his shoulders, their grip unyielding, and forcefully drag him closer to the wooden bed. One of the men retrieves a rope, swiftly snatching it from the floor.

     As the crowd's blaring roar gradually dissipates, fading into the background, only faint murmurs from women and hushed whispers from men remain. The once-deafening shouts dissolve into the thickness of the surrounding clouds as all eyes fixate upon Cal on the scaffold. Every mouth closes, and lips tighten as silence engulfs the land.

     Cal surveys his surroundings from his elevated position and meets an ocean of bodies staring back at him. His breaths come in laboured pants as he gazes at the town centre, feeling the weight of the mob's glares press upon him like a burden. However, relief floods over him as he spots Oliver and Gregory amidst the sea of faces.

     Oliver and Cal's eyes meet and lock. With light, mellow smiles, they stare deeply into each other's soft gazes. Neglecting the tumultuous atmosphere, they bid a farewell nod to one another, acknowledging the path ahead.

     Cal's gaze then shifts to meet Gregory's tearful eyes. In their shared gaze, a mixture of sadness and love mingles. As their smiles waver, Gregory offers a slight nod, a silent farewell as a son bidding adieu to his father. Cal reciprocates the gesture, expressing his goodbyes.

     Suddenly, a drumroll resounded through the air, its repetitive beat reverberating and penetrating everyone's ears. The unexpected cacophony jolted Cal, causing him to startle and bounce on his feet. A man dressed in black swiftly seized Cal by the shoulder, forcefully dragging him onto the wooden bed and urging him to lie upon its planks.

     As Cal gazed up at the dark, cloudy sky, a sense of resignation washed over him. Men swiftly moved around him, wrapping ropes tightly around his body, constricting him in a binding embrace. He winced as a knot tightened around his stomach.

     Yet, as Cal's eyes fixated on the dark clouds above, an extraordinary transformation unfolded within his mind. The darkened sky seemed to illuminate, bathing everything in his vision with a radiant glow, while the once deafening noise transformed into a tranquil silence. In the suspended moment, memories of his vibrant past flooded his mind.

     Cal found himself transported back to his youthful days, viewing the world through the lens of a young man. And there, in his cherished recollections, he beheld a beautiful woman, his beloved wife, looking at him with a beaming grin. The remembrance of the woman he loved brought a flicker of light to his face as a tender smile graced his lips even in the face of adversity.

     Cal's gaze snaps back to the present, his heart pounding. He locks eyes with the executioner, a man draped in a black robe, ominously pointing a wooden stake towards his chest. The executioner places a mallet atop the stake, raising it high into the heavens. Sensing the impending strike, Cal closes his eyes, and his smile widens.

     The mallet smashes down on the stake, and the sound of splintering wood echoes. Each strike pierces the air, filling the space with a resounding blare that silences the once-boisterous crowd. Everyone present instinctively shuts their eyes, caught in the solemn gravity of the sight before them.

     Oliver's grip tightens around Gregory's hand. He leans his forehead against his spouse's shoulder as they close their eyes. Every resonating beat of the mallet feels like a blade plunging deeper into his heart. And then, as if time has stopped, an eerie silence descends upon the scene. Oliver's gaze slowly drifts back to the scaffold, his eyes widening with disbelief and dread.

     Oliver enfolds his body around Gregory, their bodies intertwined as they face the harrowing sight before them. Their hearts grow heavy with sorrow as they stare at the scaffold. At that moment, Oliver's eyes radiate a glimmer akin to the golden sunlight of dawn.

     As the weight bears down upon the men, memories flood their minds, each as a testament to their journey through life. Every recollection becomes a tragic reminder of their existence in a world that can be unforgiving and cruel. Every memory serves as proof of their resilience, their triumphs, and their capacity for love. And, in the grand tapestry of life, each memory becomes a story, like a narrative that weaves together the threads of their experiences, shaping their identity and leaving an indelible mark on the world.