Words from the writer:

This chapter is unpredictable, I must sound like the two of them! I mean, welcome to the chapter! Oh, I forgot!

Which do you prefer? A philosopher who depicted a person through trauma and too dramatic? Or Destiny, who yearns for entertainment. Comment to answer.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

____________

◇

♧

◇

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dreams are fractions of familiarity and u̶͚̺͕̅̈́ņ̵̪̱̱̀̿̽͝k̶̖̞͆̕n̷̘̮̂̀͘ö̸̲̠̚ͅw̶͇͑n̶̨̤̅̀̅́. It reflects as a nightmare, a glimpse, or somewhere in reality that many shall never accept."

◇

Sincerely from Ţ̵͉̠̜̳͔͔̼̑́̋̐̂̑̂̇͋̀͘͠ḥ̵͙̭̠͍͙͓̇̉͆̃̾̑͝é̷̯͗́̕ ̷̢̖̹̯̣̪̤̓ͅÔ̶̭̹̖̍̎̉̆͘͘͝ͅt̴̡̹̼̙̞̾̊̿̂̒̕̕h̶̢̧̨̤̻̪͔͕̏͋̒̈́͗͆͑̐͠ͅe̸̞̙̻͔̙̱̪̤͚̦̅̈͆̃̏̚͠r̵̫̦͖̈͛̂̃̍ ̴̧̱̰̲̠͕͕̭̂͂̀͋̑͜S̵͍̻̖̏̈́͠i̷͍̹͕̺̤̘̤̒̈͗̏͐̕ḍ̵̙̫̲̽̾̈̽̈́̄̃̓́̂ẽ̴̡̩̟̰̗̃̃͐̾́̓̉͊͋̚͜

T̷̨̨̳̱̻̖̪̹͇̊̾̍̅̈́͠ḫ̶͒ͅé̵̡̻͖̹͉̫͙̘̀̔̔̀̏̈́͜ ̴̢̨̫̥̥͉̮͚̭͎̞̬͐̓̔͋̾͐͆̏͆͋̆̚P̴͙̭̺̘̤̀̋̈́̾ĥ̶̡̨͈̺̩͙̙̟̻͙͇͇̔̚i̸̡̳̟̠̇̐͒̉̾͌̕͝͠l̴͙̭͕͉̄͛̀͐͜ō̴̺̯͉̫̻̗͕̦͈͂ş̶̜̭̥̭̣̩͊͒̈́͆̔͝o̷̢̹̰̖̱͓̙̳͔̳̩͚͋p̷̧̟͚̰͚̭̞̜̱͗̑̂͆̈́̚h̴̖̣̺͇͇̱͐̋̑̇̂̍͌̈͝e̴̬̰͆̏̐̂̈́̐͑r̸̢̧̧̙͚͕̣̥̼̄̈͊̽́́͊̿̋̈͜ͅ

◇

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Point of View: ?̴̘̙̏?̴̛̖͙́̀?̶̡̛̼̬̖͂̑

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

◇

    It is a beautiful day. Children fill the world with singing and laughter of joy; flowers are blooming and flickering under the clear blue sky; all men, women, animals, and even foreigners are busy on the city streets with esteemed faces that are loved and hated by many. Every detail has shown moves to the norms and laws of a nation: a simple, elegant, and natural way to represent each citizen. Thus, in the end, there shall be peace and...

A̶̍͜ ̵̭̙̌̒S̸̡̜̰̍K̷̪͚̯̊͝Ỹ̴̥͆ ̶͚̜̚O̸̞̰̿̀͘F̵̯͙͇̈́͋̑ C̶̱̐̽R̸̲͇͗I̴͓͎͊M̵̗͈͝S̸͈̑̌Ǫ̷̣̇N̷̩̔

     Somewhere tranquil and relaxed. A little child sleeps under a symmetrical and growing tree in the centre of a playground. Born to be innocent, curious, and clean as a white lamb; represented and gifted to be more luminous than his peers and adults have possessed; curved with a welcoming face like a collector's porcelain doll to the ARISTOCRATS and widely known guests. A child with bountiful blessings is often called "THE LOVELY CHILD."

D̵͈͕͗̆͑Ė̶̮̩̙̰̌̐L̷͔̮̄́̋̓I̵̖͇̣̔̉́̕G̵̺̟̎͠Ĥ̷̫̜͎̌͠Ṫ̴͔̥̈́ͅF̷̳̬́̉̑̑U̸͔͎̿L̸̙͚͎̅͘̚.̵̹͗.̷͔͊̅.̷̼̓̉̋͘ͅ ̷̜͕̍͂͒̀ͅY̶̬͕͓̓͘Ḙ̴̳̿̄͝T̸̲̮̪̾̽ ̸͚̈́̄͌̊D̶̩̖̏Ë̴͈́͛͗̀V̴̺̍̓Ả̸͔̗͊̈́͊S̴̖͗͑͒T̸͓̥̽̓̄Ȁ̶͔̗T̴͍͛I̴̡̞̙̿͆ͅṆ̸̨͊͝G̵͔̍͒

     The blinding light from the sky suddenly and vigorously but warmly shook the little child in his deep sleep. In one motion, the child softly opens his innocent, beautifully rare eyes from the DREAM: truthfully waking from ANOTHER deep slumber. Eyes blessed by Aphrodite meet the summer leaves flurry elegantly on the tree branch; bright rays and flashes of the sun shower the dense earth; towering structures stand above the modern city in the distance.

Q̴̛̤͚͎͇̀̈́́Ủ̵̠̘̬͈I̷̩͓͎̪̘̾̅̄̑̾Ṫ̸̩̱̤̱̙͊E̷̢͑͗̋̚͘ ̶̳̱͔̆͂̋̓͋F̸͇̀̆͊Ä̴̞̥I̷̬̹̯͉̓̍́ͅR̵̨̝̦̎̔͑̾ͅ... I̶͈̦̐͆̃͛S̷̪̅Ṅ̸̬̈́'̷͔͖̮̅T̷͕͑̊͝ ̶͙͈͇͈̈́͑̈́̌́Ḯ̶̲͖͍͇̘̋̈́͝T̶̝͙̀͊̋̋...?

     At that time, the child wonders his eyes in curiosity and humbleness until he summons the courage to respond to his wishes. However, before uttering a word or even a peep, he imagines conveying himself and expressing his responses with utmost politeness and comprehensibility. Thus, he eagerly speaks everything he finds in sight: actions of someone who wavers in curiosity and rightfully at an unpolished age. In the end, the words he performed were nothing but feelings of close nostalgia and perhaps...

L̸̗͈̬̫̇̇̚͠Ơ̵̜̪͖͚N̶͍̓͆͗̊̑̇͛G̴̡̩͖͎͎̀̈́͆̚͜Į̶̢̡̭̘̠͇̉͋̈́Ǹ̸̟̪͎̮̺̝͐͑͜Ǧ̶̢̤͈̬̗̫̗͐͗̋

      As the child extends and deepens in his words and sparkles in humility, EVEN IF IT IS INDECIPHERABLE AND UNCONVENTIONAL. It carries the genuineness that could make a Corvus carelessly "croak" in the sky. A dwindling, irritating scream followed after and erupting from a certain distance. A faint complaint took minutes after, and a genuine squeak was a response to the demand. Like most other children, he took it as a fraction of his imagination until a CRY came to his attention.

    The child ceases his utterance and does not wish to participate in any means of activities. However, with a bigger and kinder heart, he heeds its whereabouts until it lays on a particular yet FAMILIAR group of children.

F̷̨͇̠͍̭̾͌A̶͓͉͉̙̲̾M̸̭͋I̸̘͈̅̇̊ͅL̴̖̬̭̘̗̇͗̉͋Ȉ̷̦̲͖̬̹A̵̙͒͐R̷̰͋̋̄͗.̴̟́͆̈́̇̓.̷̨͖̀̈́̇.̸͎̿̈́̎̏?̴̢̨̙͌̋́

     Three children have caused a petty clash with one of their VULNERABLE classmates in the open field: a lonely and delicate child with only pure intentions and neutrality. Moments ago, the unwary child had a quiet moment of his own until the three juveniles interfered with his tranquillity. Returning to the present, the weak child lowly demands his older peers to leave him in solidarity, but his words never reach their ears.

     Furthermore, no man stood to defend the weakling. Others only glance: FRIVOLOUS IN THEIR EYES. Some leave with indifference. Some others stared like it was live news in a TV store and left: CERTAINLY ABANDONED THE CHILD.

Ṯ̴͓̈̐̈́̚H̶̰̗̩̘̲͑͑͛͗É̸͍̘͔Y̵̢̛͍̼̎ ̵̧̛̫͖̠͎H̵̛̪̀͊Ḁ̷̰̗̘̃̀V̴͕̠͔̒̈́̒̏͘Ẹ̷̩̬̈́̈́͆̅̋ ̷̧͚̪̞͐̊̒̚Ņ̷̤̣͌̀̑͝O̸̖̮͗͂ ̸̪̣͌͘͝C̷̩̃O̷̡̖͍̽͑̔̔M̴̰̩͉̘̃P̶͚̜̃͂̔͆̌Ạ̶̠͛S̴͎̒̑͐͜S̷͇̳̒Ī̴͇̣̞̳̗̔̑̕͠O̴̻͚̱̕N̴̨̯̻̜͑́̔͝

   "The lovely child" was shocked at the trivial spectacle ahead of him. In the absence of reluctance and no sign of reconsideration, he stands tall with the determination fueling him from the very beginning and marking to rescue the child from the gruelling obstacle. Despite the harshness shown with his bare eyes, the complete incompetence he sailed himself into. He shall do what it takes to follow his FEEBLE heart and dearly grasp his FOOLISH faith.

Ư̵̦̂̇̅N̸͚͎̲͒W̶̬͈̹̼̓̇̈̚I̷͕̓͘S̶̞̳͂E̸̯̫̱͆̓̕ͅ ̵̗̞̪̼̄A̸̺̓̔N̶̤̄͠D̴͚͈̂͛̿ ̸̼̬̖̀̉̈́Ș̵̫͚̿O̷̬̝̪̽̐͘F̸̟̝̤̱̃̓̽̕Ṫ̸̹͎̝̍͆Ḧ̶̻́͗̕̕E̵̤͓̮͕̒̒A̷̦̤͋̕R̶̮͎̈̄̃ͅT̴̼͙͔͋̍̕͝E̷̩͖͙̩̔D̸̜̆

     With no one to guide nor safeguard the child in the face of destiny, he boldly steps in to save the child in distress like what he longs for.

     With every step, the three IMBECILES notice the sweet and familiar presence of the child they, TOO, have known in the light. Therefore, there was silence at the moment of self-valour and awkwardness. However, a small and courageous speech of shaking words from the child broke the stillness between the two parties — in only hopes of ending the farce. Instead of following a friend's counsel, they turn to the opposite side, releasing words of mockery that he shall never forget: an IDEAL glimpse of REALITY.

    From another perspective, the child in distress, who seems forgotten by the moment, sees a thread of light through the terrors of the horrible and unlikely parody. With a quick wit and use of what remains of his bravery, he finally seizes the correct opportunity to leave from the grasp of his captures. However, he surprisingly trips and lands on the dry soil with clouds of dust and little bruises. The child cries from his utter failures while the three youths laugh with a grin on their smaller faces.

     The softhearted child empathises and makes a final proposition to defend the friendless child til the very end.

Ẉ̶̜̋͊͘Ḧ̵̡̨̖́͛̾̆̀Y̸̺̔̇̆͠͝ ̸̘̘̏̈W̵̙̳̗͈̖͐̄̉̑̕Ḯ̷̝̲͊̆͋L̴͔͉̉̈́̎̂͝L̸̰̯̲̄͝I̷̧̠̮̗̯̒̃͊͋̓N̴̰͓͚̦͐͘ͅG̶̛̙̫̀͛L̶̮͉͈͕͘Y̴̫̤̭̣͗͂ͅ ̸͎̟̩̻̝́̈́̎̍D̶͍͔̠̯̻̄O̴̰͕̬͑̑͌͂ ̵͓͇̼̐Ȉ̴̩͓̺̤͚͠Ț̸̈́̎̓̈..?

    PHILOSOPHICALLY SPEAKING: This is one of the hundreds of results of placing another good soul under someone else's shoes. Even if it meant empathetically helping a lost individual in despair or a dissenter to spread new morals and influence a community, if there is any like of them, there shall be a debt or a downfall in return. Like puppets on strings, the act of free will does not justify THE DEVINE; neither does determinism be predicted nor planned by a man.

    Accepting such unworthy consequences as one of those, even if it was the choice and following a religious or a philosophical belief. Many variety of these souls FORFEIT for the betterment and good caused. At the end of these lowly stories, they lived in the likes of modern fantasy that earthly mortals have love or meet a tragic end from a painless death. Perhaps, even as the "ANTAGONIST" who strikes fear and bloodshed in the heart of "SOCIETY." Then, the history repeated.

L̶̤͖̋̏̚I̷̬̳̮̍̃͑͛K̴͓͆͐̀͐̀̍̕͝Ë̵̪́͆́͒̌ Æ B̵̰̈́̇͆R̴͖͚̾̈́̈́O̶͓̩̭̎̈́K̸̞̾E̷̳̘͋͐̿͋Ń̸̳̅͂͠ Ŕ̵̢̗̟͉͎̪ͅE̵̖̽C̴̛̦͉͖͕̖͑̚O̷̢͇͕͎͖̙͉̤͐̇̀͐̓̽͋͝R̷̡͓̾̍͠D̷̡̛̖̒̆̃͜

    Reality is irredeemable sometimes, not too cruel and exceptional. It severely resembles Plato's "Allegory of the Cave" but diverges, multiplies, and differs from its meaning, becoming something UNSOPHISTICATED. A position where the way of life is ignorance is bliss. May it be lovers of themselves, lust and self-assurance, praising idols and images, and affairs of profanity that walk on the path of damnation.

    No matter how an organism has reached. No matter how much a mortal with status or blood tries to defy the laws of the cosmos. No matter how much a higher being claims to be equivalent and tied to DEITY comfort or resists a PHENOMENON. Threads woven from the FIRST and SECOND FATE have been eventually cut by the THIRD FATE HERSELF.

H̴̡̱̽̅Ó̷̪̱͖̗̘̒Ẅ̶̜͔̙́̊́͆E̷̘͚̓̏V̶͕͈͔̰̅̆͐̍̕͜Ẽ̸̼̙̞̾̓̕͜͠R̴̦͇̭͗...

    Despite that, I have seen it. How does THIS piece of memory lane correlate... nor how could I depict this ingenuous introspection... Y̸͊̏̀̎̚͜O̸̡̱͆͐̈́̌͘Ư̶̙̜̠͙͑͒̇̚

C̴H̸̗͉̦͗I̷̓LĎ̷ S̸̍͒͘Ỏ̶UG̸̛̐̅̽͘HŤ̶͇͎ Ö̷̌LD̵̢̮̲̜̖́͘ Ĕ̵M̶̉̍PT̶̓Ý̸̕ D̶R̶̢͎̞̒͜͠ÆMS.

V̴̢̻̈̃̕U̵̞͋͌͗L̴̿͠NE̸̹͒̿͐̂R̴̉̅A̸̳̹̳̮̠̹̐̏̔͠B̷̓̂̊L̷̼̬͕̭̟̲̓͐͜E, Ṣ̷̡̛́͒́Ë̶̜͖͉̈́͂́̒̈́̾̚L̶̨̢̛̩͓̗̣̟̄̅́̋̔̓͘͠F̴̨̨̡̼̺̗̱͇̠͌͆̉̎͆̍̀̓Ȉ̴̧̢̻͍̪͍̭͇͕͗̐̾́̋͝S̷͉͚͍̤̾̿͜H̴̲͉̙̹̣̳̣̓̑̇̉͆͛̾, Ǎ̴̛͐̅ND̴͂͛̇ I̸͉̘̥̦͕̠͎͇̓N̷̝̞̄̾S̵̗͍̃̔̔̃̕I̷͓̾̈́G̸̍͛̐͒͐͘͝ͅN̴̻̜͉̐̓̓̇̓͊I̶̡̠̳̫͚̲̝͑̇̏̐̈́̒͝F̷̟̄͛͂̋I̵̩͗̃̑̀̚̕͝C̵̛͕͍͗̿̕͝Á̶̦̰̺͇̂̌̋̈̔͐͗N̵̢̺͓̭͘ͅT̶̻̯̳́̀̐̽̑́̍̾.

F̴̛͍͔̯̣̼̭͉̀̈́Ǒ̷̪̈́̓̒̏̌̍̔̆R̵̻͍̮͌F̴̲̳͍̫̻̳́̓̒́͝É̸̢̮̺̭̲̃͘͝I̵̟̭͓͓̗͔̝̬͂̓T̴͎̼̲̬͉̭̋ ̷̺̈́W̸̃̈́͂͌͘IT̵̛̉͐̚Ḣ̶͠ ̸̛̺͙͛͂̇Ő̵͎̅͝N̴̡͙̬̥̊̄Ë̵̲́̇̽͛͜'̵̡̿̄̽͋͠S̵̛̓ Ȍ̷͉̂̊̑͊͊̍̓W̸̯̱͓̼̺̜̰̋̓͆̍̈́̏͊͘͜N̶̨̛̝͇̝͕͇̯̂͋̎̍̏̈́̿̆̚ ̶̟͛Į̴̬̱͐̋͆̚͜L̴̮͉͕̻̿L̷̥͚͊US̸͕̦̺͑̕I̷̩̙̝̋̍̋͘ON̴̗̞̯̪̒̎.

W̷̛̻͒̕H̸Ȳ̶...

S̸͛̌̋̓̓Ô̵̻̻͈̈ͅM̴̥̫͈̼̰͌̔͂͘Ë̷̡̢̻̘̻́̑̉̈́͌͆Ȏ̵̡̼̜̪͇͉́̋́̀̉̒̄̽͆͝͝N̵̮̠̔̽̉̊͆̓̿̄́̕͝Ē̴͙̈́̽͊̓́ ̶̡̨̗̰̹̜̤̞̥͆̍̎̀̓̕ͅL̶̨̛͇̳̯͒̌́̃̎̍̔͛̽͒̉I̸̢̫͈͇͍̯͛̇͗́̃́́̎̈Ǩ̷̯̼̠̞̫͖͂̊̎̋̇̅̒͘͝Ě̶ ̷̉̍̋̉͠Y̴̾̅̊̎̅̕Ő̷̧̰̲̝͠Ứ̷́̃͂̀̉͐...

R̷̲̹͖͓̍̀͠E̴̞͎͙̗̿͝ͅS̶͙̝̥̲̤̝̲͛̔͜Ȇ̴̗͇̙̻̯̪̞͑͋͐Ȑ̷̭̝̯̱̦͜V̶̟̜̗̄̅̂͜È̴̪͕͙̯̣̠̄̏͒͐̊-̷̭̳̖̑—

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

♡

P̶͕̺͚͔̬͖̙̝̟̗̥͑̔̿̔̍̾̑͘O̴̠͙͙͖͈̪͕̫̭͌̓͂̂̿̊͒̓͆͋̕Ȋ̶̝͙̠͎͚̟̣́͆̄͊͠N̴̩̬͍͖͙̩̩̖͎̣̽̄Ţ̵̖͎̬̗̪͚̭̳̩́̀ ̴̛̬͕̽̅̃͛Ǫ̵̛̪̫͓̦͚̹͔͖̇̈́͋̇̉̿̅̾͋̕F̸̛̮̍̅͛̃̂̀͐͌̐̂ ̶̤̭̗̼̗̪̤̯̍͆V̵̨̞͇̯̳͔̮̲̘͕̭͕̎I̵̛͙͈̫͓̼͕̻͒̅̐̾̓̈́͝͝ͅE̴̬̻̩̥̅̑͗͋̑́̏Ẃ̴̧̧̛̛̟͍̤̝̼̂:̴̹̹̮͖̤̭̰̌́͗̈̎͆͠ T̶̬̱̰̠̀̅͆͋̀̃̉̕͝h̵̢̦̻͓̳͜͠͠ë̷͍̳̹̚ͅ ̵̞̈́͗̊̑͝M̶̺̺͕͇̋̑͂͗̔̍̋ͅo̷̡͜͠i̵̯̱̋̈̏̑̒̇̕̚̚r̶̯͒́á̶̧͖͉i̴͙̳͂́̍̒̃̕͝

F̶̙́o̶̠͂͛r̴̯̈́g̴̥̈́ỉ̴̪v̴̯͍̿ē̶̫ ̴͕̀͠M̶̜̗̞͌̀Ý̶̾ ̸͔̇̓ͅi̶̭̊͠n̸̦̒t̶̩͂͝e̴̼̬̋r̴̡͌f̴̩̣̅̐ȅ̴̢̫͝r̶̫̒͑e̷͎̪̓n̴̨̼̈́c̴̣͕͌e̵̠͗̆ ̸̩͜͝u̶̢̅̄̓͜p̶̩͈̉͑̅o̶͓̖͐̿ń̷͎́̈́ ̴̰̕ṱ̷̮̮͌̀h̶͍̲͛ͅo̶̘̍̇ű̵́͜.̶̨̠̐̄.̴͔̕.̷̨͌͒

À̸̖͆l̷͓͉̂̎l̶̫̻̅ǫ̵̛̯̆w̶͕͗ ̵͉̄̔m̸̢̫̈́e̸̙͛̒ ̴͈̝̇̀ṯ̴̏͊ō̷̤ ̸͙̜̓̈́e̷̳̕ṉ̴̟̓̓t̷̢̒̀e̵͉̲̒r̷̹̐͌t̵̛͕̋a̶̼̽ǐ̸̭n̴̘̫̔͆ ̷̝̿f̴͇͂ơ̷̤r̸͍̹̿́ ̶͙̦́͠a̵̻̗̾̒ ̸̤̘̑̐w̸̯̳̐͋h̸͓̔̎ỉ̶͈͝l̶̢̢͑ȅ̶̟̏.̴͇̽͌.̷̦͎͊̚.̶̢̲͘

̷̲̲͆T̶̫̥͠ḫ̷̓̽e̸͎̖͑̚ ̶̖̃ò̴͜n̷̻̔̕ë̶̩́̽ ̸̙̗̒ẃ̸̤̠̀h̸̝̋͘o̷͕̱̽͗ ̷̟̊́o̶̖̱̿w̸̻̗̎͝ň̴͎͘s̷̟̒́ ̸̖̪͐t̷͎̃͝h̴͚͋̓ė̶̟ ̴͖͉͑b̴̪̮̃͑r̸̗̯͗͐o̷̘̓ķ̷͊è̶̫͊n̶̝̫̄ ̴̞͒t̷̜͉̍̔h̶̪͠r̵̛̼̞̕ẻ̷̡̇a̵̧̧͊d̴͓̣̀.

♡

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Minutes felt like seconds. An event — a conflict ended in the blink of an eye and showed something much more ERRATIC. What is within those shear moments?

    A child who comes from nowhere took an overwhelmed blow in the face from the seemingly blonde antagonist. That child fell to the ground, with his unidentified face planted on the dust surface. It is shocking news for both the pair of children HE saved and those ASSAULTERS who have begun the play. Before the children give a chance to think this for themselves, the unidentified child calmly stands back on his feet and gifts SOMETHING VERY KIND IN RETURN.

     The blonde aggressor, unable to read the book he now faces, finally receives a wage of ten times the amount he pays the child from the NOWHERE: A VIGOROUS PUNCH IN THE FACE. The blonde-haired child falls to the ground, bested and in senseless pain: PRETTY UNCONSCIOUS AND DEFEATED. The pair of aggressor's friends were frozen and petrified by the sudden, honest, and reasonable act. As most unwise and shocked children would do in THE FACE OF DANGER, a child shrieked at the top of his lungs AND GRANTED HIS WISH.

   The daring child dashed and VIOLENTLY caught the fragile throat of the screaming child, then tossed and tackled down effortlessly with only just a hand placed on the throat. As it happens, the squeak turned to HELPNESS GRUNTS of those who pleas for air; sounds of CRACKS from weaker and smaller bones; and HEAVY BRUISES due to the rough landing. The moment that once excitement and life from this CRETIN'S face gradually fades to FEAR and DULLNESS.

    Before finishing the job, sadly, the last child from the PATHETIC group hurriedly attempts to run and escape. However, this WRETCHED FOOL has the acceleration and speed of a PIG'S. This, the audacious child smoothly sprints and leaps on the back of the last member. Catching by surprise, and FEROCIOUSLY breaks the piece of its back, a "GIFT" that this fat child has recently received. Resulting in a sorrowful wailing release from its mouth: a scream befitting of a foul SWINE and MUSIC on someone else's ears.

    It is then abruptly ended by the filthy creature crashing on the dense, loam ground; both praying and begging for what they called a "NIGHTMARE" to end. The venturesome child, however, has UNSATISFACTORY written on his face. Thus, he seizes its ankles with heavy, nimble force; he lifts it like a ragdoll and then FEROCIOUSLY bursts the pest to the solid ground constantly. The wail is boundless to portray: BUT AN ALLURING ORCHESTRA IN THEATRE.

    After the amusement has taken to a halt. The child finally placed satisfaction on his adorable face; POLITELY tossed what remained of the VERMIN and hummed a foreign melody out of contentment. However, before honouring those darling feelings, a LOCO shouted unnecessary complaints had come to the garden: AN IMMATURE ADULT WITH A FACE TO THE ONE'S LECTURING SOMEONE JOINS THE GAME.

   The child stares with a lack of interest: VISIBLY DISPLEASED AND PISSED. As the loco is coming closer to the child in his relentless pursuit, the child responds to him with VICIOUS boots on the lower abdomen. Kneeling at the child's height, the man is utterly stunned in bewilderment and discomfort. Before the man has the decision made up, the child eases the man's agony by REMORSELESSLY striking at the upper regions, and it ends with falling with bright lights shining above the man. PLACIDLY LEAVING THE PHYSICAL VESSEL.

    The unwavering child purposely took steps forward and MERCILESSLY stomped the loco's ugly face: DOUBLE END THE MISERY. As the ambitious child thought it was finally over; DESTINY WANTS MORE ENTERTAINMENT.

    Voices shaking in HORROR and DOUBTS filled the silence; trembling footsteps and movements filled with CAUTION and DREADFULNESS came into his ears; eyes containing INCREDULITY, ANTIPATHY, and APPREHENSION from the shadows felt everywhere at once. All have gathered for a sole cause: THE TALK OF THE TOWN. The ambitious figure motioned indifferently and showed few signs of loathing, leaving a well-known phrase in his mind: "I expect nothing less."

   And so, little children and adults who went to show their taste of JUSTICE and attempted to stop the CHAOS had scattered and thoroughly wore the MASK OF MELPOMENE; this pierced their hearts with emotions beyond what can be comprehended. The guests who sat in the shadows reconsidered; SPINELESSLY fled with those who intervened amid the battle without any harm. And finally, achieving the feat of DESTINY wearing the MASK OF THALIA: IT IS ASTONISHING AS ALWAYS, YET TOO MERCIFUL.

    FEAR stood what remains of his CAPTIVATING work. The two children HE had saved were the last who stood before him. Given a moment to pause, he politely permitted the crying child to leave. The weeping child is startling but understood and without a second to waste; the fearful child fled from the scene with "watering yellow" on the loose. Today and in this last moment, THE CHILD FROM THE BEGINNING has to fend for himself as FEAR approaches him like nothing happened.

    This child's little CRETIN mind is trembling with many convictions, and one of them is finally THE END OF THE STORY. He weakly stumbled to the dust and reluctantly closed his ravishing gem-like eyes, thus waiting for the experience to come. However, unexpectedly, it did not. In his bafflement, he opened his eyes and unravelled a rare moment.

    The other child gave him the signature of an open hand with countless meanings. Part of it shows a primary emotion of ANGER and JOY; others show EXHAUSTION, DISAPPOINTMENT, and TENDERNESS; finally, a piece of RELIEF and GLADNESS.

    The child, from the beginning, is stunned. He could not flinch or even respond to the BENEVOLENT and ENIGMATIC figure standing in front of him. It is an infrequent sight for him to see. He is conflicted about what he should decide, but his body gradually moves with the feeling and takes the lead. The child's tiny hand acknowledges and processes the figure's open hand: A SURPRISING HAPPY ENDING, OR IS IT?

    As a heartwarming and peaceful moment continues, his vivid GREEN eyes notice an enraged and familiar child rose at the back of the stage. That child arises, and RED immerse its perception with no morality and wisdom, lacking resolve and acceptance through and after the conflict it had experienced. What is most notable is that the same child chose self-pride and MADNESS. The child's eyes widen in shock and, therefore, attempts to warn someone of sudden aggression and cheating.

    However, before the figure knows the child's warning, the enraged and vengeful aggressor returns and races. The aggressor came up close as it unleashed its FRIGHTENING gift, used it to the opposite of his morals, and lost parts of someone's significance. After all the horrible deeds and more inhumane things have been done, it is too late for forgiveness and return to what it was. Every good and terrible story is always and unfortunately coming to an end. May it be happy, sad, bittersweet, vengeful, and SOMETHING LIKE THIS...

N̴̰̐o̴͎̎ẅ̸̬́ ̵̝̓t̷͈͒ḧ̶̪́ã̴͍t̷̃͜ ̷̰͋I̴͉̎ ̴͙̔ḧ̶͚ḁ̸̈́v̷͕̀e̴͍̒ ̵̩͘m̴̨͛ỷ̴̖ ̴̭̒f̷̣̚u̷̮͆n̶̝͝.̵̮̀ ̴̜̿I̵̖̍ ̸̢̊ả̵͜d̵̤̏v̵̺͛i̵̿͜ś̴͉e̵͚͛ ̶͈̕y̵̜͝o̵̓͜ṳ̷̈́ ̵͕̊t̴͚͗o̶̧͊ ̶̲̎n̵̫̉õ̶̯t̸̳͆ ̸͚̅m̶͉̅e̷̪͒ḑ̴̽d̵̬͂l̴̖͌e̵̬͑ ̴̇ͅw̴̪̚i̶͍̋ẗ̴͖́ḥ̸̃ ̴͇͠y̶͍͗o̵̗͘u̸̬̓r̴̮̐ ̷͚̈́c̶̺̄o̵͎̅n̸̥̈c̴̢͂l̷̹͊u̶͈͛s̶̔͜i̶̪̾ǒ̷͔n̶͇̽s̵̟͠ ̵̩́a̷̺͆n̶̡͝d̵̠͝ ̸͕̃t̷̗̔h̵̨̕e̵͍̕ ̵̢̓d̷̫̐r̵̃ͅe̴͈̾a̷̯̿m̶̹̂.̶͉̏..

Î̸̛̖͖'̷͕̠́ḽ̴̣̐l̸̢͕̾ ̴̟̒̇r̴̠̬̍̾e̵̟̦͝t̵̟̫́u̷̳̩͗r̵̼̣̈́͋n̸̜̻͂ ̶̤̱̍̅t̴̬̂ǒ̴̥́ ̴͓͐̃ẅ̵́ͅë̴̠́à̴͙͕v̴̰͂̚ị̸̧͝n̶̠̰̆͗g̸̠̤̋̓ ̷̪̖̊a̸͔͇͊̕n̶̛̻͎d̶̘̽ ̶̛̰̀c̷̤̯̿̆u̶̢̝͌t̷̡̳̑͘ţ̶͛i̸͎̊̀n̴̹͐ǵ̷͈̆ ̸͈̘̓̚t̷̙̓̊h̴̥̞̎r̵̢̬͋ě̴͇a̷̽͜d̸̛̹̱͐s̴̤̈́̿...

F̴̝̻͂̈́̉ǎ̵̛̦͆ṛ̸̥̓͘e̴̛͖̦w̶̩͖͒̊̀ê̷̥̈́͌l̸̪̜͓̚l̵̬̋̔͒.̷̢̳̗̋

E̶̲̎̈V̷͓̤͓̏E̶̲͇̔̉̓Ŕ̶̞͋̔Ẏ̴̫̙͋̇T̸̰̝̍̈̒H̴̪̗̳̐Ḯ̷̟̅ͅǸ̵̢͚̉̓G̸̣̓ ̴͙̱̉́H̸̹͔͂A̴̧̨̐͌̄P̶̧͇̼̊P̴͍͕͆E̸̖̎N̷̩̱͕̋̃̅S̶͙̑͐̊ ̸̢̘̠̿̇̍A̵̫̯͛̿̋ͅT̶̡̩͐ ̷̫̈́̓͜T̶̲͉͐H̷̛̲͙̍͝Ȅ̷̺͉̰̆ ̷̣͖̖̐̒̚Ĕ̶͈̺͈̌Ǹ̴̖̂͝Ḓ̴̘̌̈́͝.̴̩͝ ̸̡̛̬I̸͖̜͘ ̸̱͑̐̀S̷̮̑̀̕H̶̼̣̻͂̓O̸̭͋̃̌Ù̵̩͕Ḷ̷̽̎͆D̵̹͆͗'̷̧̹̳̌͐͒V̸̨̼̝͑͂̕É̵͓̦ ̸͓̖̲͛̋͝S̸̖͑E̷̹͠Ȅ̴͔͂͘N̸̥͓̋͠ ̸̻̔͆̕Ą̴͚̓͂̋N̷͖̣̈́̒D̷̥̮̒̆̃ ̵̼̖̍Y̷̩̑͗Ȅ̶͈̠T̵̙̔̀.̷̤͌̃.̵͉̾.̴̡̪̆̓͜ ̷͍͈̞̓͘Î̸̬ ̸͖͍͚̆͋́Ḋ̸͕̤̪I̴̞̕D̷̺͈͒͘ ̴̘̹̀̃N̷͇̰̗͒̋͠Ṏ̸̡̮́T̵͕̈́͝.̸̲͛..

Ḟ̵̥͕̙̒Ỏ̴̩̟R̸͓̟̀͌͌G̷͇̬̾͘I̵͓̓̊͊V̷͔̎͌Ḛ̷̋̆͐ ̷̠̲͓̆M̴̼̪͒̚Ë̶̞͈́͘.̴̬̙̘̽͑ ̶̝͔̋͠ͅȊ̷̡̾̽'̴̳͆L̶̝͐̿̏L̷̡̟̖̊́̚ ̴̧͖̝̐̽̊E̷̜͚͍̓̓̕N̸̞̑ͅD̴̢͈̻͌ ̷̠͑T̴͚̯͈̃͘͝H̷̨̢̃Į̶̰͊̚͜S̶̘̔͊̈́ ̴̣͇̬̓A̷̘͆͑̇ͅT̶̠͐͂̄ ̷̱̺̫̈́͂Ö̶̥̜́̈́̍N̵͖̿͛C̵͔̅E̸̙͔̖͊̐̒.

    At the sheer and last moment, the last act spills the crimson blood to the scorching dust. And then everything passes in a LOUD SIRENS, and WHITE FOG quickly engulfs THIS FORGOTTEN PIECE OF MEMORY LANE. May HE return and meet you once more. The only son of Lady Inko Midoria, Izuku Midoria.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Point of View: Third Person

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     A young male high schooler abruptly woke up and jolted from his bed in a cold sweat and pure confusion, heavily breathed with both his lungs and air respiratory system. His large, vivid green eyes are trembling and wide open from the sudden flashes of a realistic and haunting dream. Heavy moisture and disbelief washed over his face with extreme shock and sentimentality. As he breathes heavily for seconds, he pauses and looks at the dimly lit dark apartment room.

     A cheap and shut light bulb is attached to the pale ceiling. Cheap and old paint cover the apartment bedroom's concrete walls. Posters of heroes and idols are stickered on the same walls. A few pieces of furniture were either covered in hero franchise or plain as it is. Action figurines and other significant belongings are on the shelves and on top of the furniture. And down is the untidy yet clean wooded floor. In a split second, he finally finds himself in his bedroom.

     He begins to sign in relief and mutters, "It is — it is just a... a dream." After breathing in relief for seconds with a calming and softened face, he looked over to the clock somewhere in his apartment bedroom as it was labelled a surpassing time of 5:30 A.M. The high schooler blankly and silently stared at the clock with the same neutral face, and then it clicked him.

    He screamed, "Oh no!!! I'm late for the schedule!" With a single realization, he frantically moves and out of his bed that the blanket is thrown vertically upwards but landed gracefully because of gravity and the quality of the material it was made.

     Meanwhile, a kind middle-aged woman is peacefully sitting on the old couch with a warm cup of tea on the wooded table in the early morning. As she was about to relax in tranquillity, a loud bang came out of nowhere. This resulted in the middle-aged woman frantically shocked and shaking uncertainly and uncommonly. Her head and whole body also swing in the same peculiar manner and behaviour.

    She thought, 'What was that!? An object falls from the furniture!? A rat moves it!? A mouse!? A cockroach?!! I must get the "anti-pest sprayer"!! Wait! What if...! It was from the outside or other neighbouring apartments! But why!? HOW?!!! There's no one in there!! And why would there even be!? Is there a thief or a burglar on the other side?! Calm down, calm down!!' And so forth.

    The middle-aged woman was frantically still panicking until her eyes placed on her one and only son, Izuku Midoria. Izuku sprinted to wear his shoes and was about to open the door but accidentally hit himself in the face. The middle-aged woman is surprised by her son's action and is about to help, but her son quickly gets to his feet and opens the door. Her son leaves the apartment room, and the door closes with a loud bang. Leaving the kind middle-aged woman to question: 'What happened?'

    Izuku ran as fast as he could to make up his early listed schedule in time, but fate seemed to intertwine it and put another plan in the stead. Izuku has no other choice and thus hates to admit it, pauses in the middle of the empty and dark street, heavily panting for stamina and air. While he breathes, Izuku finds himself in the small, empty urban street he is familiar with; the street lights turning off each by each as the sun rises from its slumber.

     Izuku takes enough of his observation, wasting time, and "could" sprint back into the moment if it weren't for his introspections bothering him at the very moment. The dream he had experienced was kept permanently saved in his memory. No matter how hard he tried to slide and forget it like he always did, it did not. The surreal nostalgia has become the secondary branch of his thought. Something he also can't answer or lay a finger on.

     Izuku signs and groans in frustration while muttering some words of ingratitude. Nevertheless, he tilted his head ahead to the road with undermined perseverance and pursued his primary goal. To become the hero who saves everyone with a smile.

"̴̡̽̕͠T̶̛̩̙͌́h̸̺͎͒͋a̵̺͛ͅţ̴̻͍̇̾͌ ̸̣̌í̴̛͖̦ŝ̴͍͚ ̸̪̗͐̿͊a̷̮̖͊͑̿n̸̺̺̻͛ ̵̢̛͚̇̈h̶̨̻̻̏͆̐o̵̭͛̐n̶̢̲̾ỏ̵͎͔̅͝u̶̢̞͑ͅr̵̫͍̺͐̊̈a̷̡̨̔b̴͚̞͖̌͗̿l̵̘̍̆͜ě̵͖̥ ̵̛̛͓̠̘̒á̴͙͔͗n̴̠͛͂d̸̯͕̮̎̚ ̷͙̅â̵̡̌ṉ̶̢͋̈́̿ ̸̨̡̙͊e̶̡̜̣̐́ǹ̴̟̃̊ḍ̶̣̎͝e̵̜͑̓͜a̴̧̮̓̿v̴̞̽ȯ̶͓̰̜u̴̺͘r̵͖̰͗͆͝ ̴̪̬̼̽d̷͎͆̌r̷̪̙̗̐ḙ̶̘̇̆a̶̡̞͆͋̑ͅm̷̢̮͙̀.̸̮̮͚̉͝ ̷̳͘Ḧ̷͍́̊͌o̴͓̻͘͝w̵͖̓̚ȇ̷̬̿͝v̴̪͙̉͝e̷̠̺̹̋̓r̸͖̃͂̂,̸̭̳̮̎̑ ̵̡̗͋͒͗í̵͎t̴̡̧̻̍̋͝ ̵̼̱͋i̸̧̭̚͜s̶̨̛͎͛̈́ ̷̨̐ḟ̵͔̻͛͆ỏ̶͉̼̩̈ṍ̵̮͈͇l̶̯̓̀͆i̴̟̾̚s̷̥̙̥̿ḩ̶͚̞̅ ̴̫̖̒̔̎a̶̡̘̓n̴̝̘͓͋d̷͓͐̔ ̵͓̜̳̂̓͐n̴̬͙̾͜ä̴͖́ỉ̵͙̰̣̇̚v̴̝̉̏e̴͉͔̽͗̎ ̶̈͜t̷̬̼̭̃̕o̵̮̮̒ ̸̬̖̑̓ͅk̸̼̮̐͗̓ȩ̴̧̒̈́e̵̡͙̽͌́p̸̨͍͖̍.̷͇͗̉"̴͍̥̎͐

    Izuku shook himself from words unknowingly coming out of his head and concluded that it was either a terrible comment from the back of his mind or an illusion affecting his mind. He breathes in and continues to follow the schedule with the same determination on his innocent and passionate face. Continuing his sealed choice and old purpose of becoming the hero he dreams of.

    What he didn't know is what awaits him tomorrow or another day.

♤

     A tall, shadowed figure dressed in a long coat admires the newly woke sun in a towering structure that is high enough to see like a MONARCH. HE is caressed by the coolness and elegant breeze like freshly made silk for the royals; stands and presents with authority above mortals and heroes; and is an unworldly figure with prowess and vigour.

   As Amaterasu finally rises, her glorious dayspring sets forth to the sky. The red and yellow light that gleams together from the dawn finally meets the figure's shadowing grand nature. After the long silence, the figure says: "I have returned."

♤

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Welcome to behind the scenes:

Alternative title: Doctor-06's unused funny scenes.

Before going, I want to thank The_Totally_Sane_Guy for this part. And I'm sorry for not using it. Let's unwrap it anyway.

Somewhere in the city...

Ice cream vendor (cheerful): Hello, sir! What do you like to buy?

Nurse (giggly): I want to buy a whole box of high-quality ice cream!

Ice cream vendor (completely shocked): WHAT?!!

Nurse (showoff): Well. Unlike you, I have like... 150 grand per month.

[AUDIO: 1,000 US dollars or a grand is technically less than 150,000 yen. Plus, MHA is taken somewhere into the future, which means it is possible to be higher or lower than that]

Ice cream vendor (froze in shock): ...

Nurse (boasting): It's okay. The kid is as patient as he looks. *doing one of those confident poses, but purely not noticing something IMPORTANT*

Ice cream vendor (turn confused): Isn't he... somewhat TINY?

Nurse (confident): Yep * Missing something MORE important.*

Ice cream vendor (grows sceptical): Does he always look... ANGRY AT SOMETHING?

Nurse (confident but unsure) Yep... *missing something MUCH MORE important.*

Ice cream vendor (Raising a brow): Is he... that COLOURFUL?

Nurse (becoming irritated): Yep. Even though he's not...! * not noticing IT!!!*

Ice cream vendor (with a brow): Do you even know what's right BEHIND you?

Nurse (grungy): Of course! It is a WEAK CHILD! Why did you even ask those stupid questions?!

Ice cream vendor (deadpan): Why don't you take a look?

Nurse: *comically turns around, seeing what's REALLY behind him*

Orange from Rainbow Friends (lizard language): GRR

[Orange has been waiting (im)patiently and hoping for a first-time snow cream for himself (and his rainbow friends)]

Nurse (jaw drops): What?!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[AUDIO: On the rest of the day. He chased the kid he should take care of. Instead, he got what a particular mascot had spoken. "You had one job, and you messed that up somehow." Also...]

Ice cream vendor: U-u-uh aaa... w-what do y-y-you want si — AHHH!!

Orange (lizard language): *inhumane growling*

??? from [my undergoing book]: What does the lizard mean: "23 SNOW CREAM! OR I'LL RIP YOU TO SHREDS!!"

Also, can you make it quick? Because...

[??? Smiles with murderous intent behind her sharp fringe hair*

I can't be late on the FIELD TRIP.

Ice cream vendor: EEAAHH!?!!!

??? From [A story in the draft]: The young lady is correct. I, too, have a place with interest to go with my CORVUS companions. I only wish to be there in time.

*??? Stares with cryptic authority upon the vendor*

Please be the good gentleman you are and finish their demands AT ONCE.

??? From [Another story in the draft]: Kono baka (You idiots)!! I don't want this innocent guy to be a part of the URBAN cases — hmm?

[AUDIO: I can't draw a person back then. So I drew a familiar face instead. Plus me]

[??? Realises that he *CENSORED* up]

Kuso (CENSORED). Uhh... as a "private investigator," I'll make sure these TOURISTS won't do anything harm. *sweating and twitching face: NOT AN INVESTIGATOR.*

Ice cream vendor: *Begins to fear every single one of them with his life. He quickly makes the first demand like his life is on the line, but all of it is colourless. *

Orange (roaring lizard complaint): *CENSORED* [just some gibberish and loud scream. Similarly to his jumpscare]

A mere contractor (identity reveal): Please forgive me!!! I'm only just a mere contractor!!!

The End

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Last words from the Writer:

Forgave my idleness. I always got sick, accidentally sprained an ankle, distracted by school, and YouTube. And most notable is an endless war of toilets, cameras, speakers, and televisions that happen to take a toll on me.

I found it funny and was hugely amazed by how the series goes on. Mostly the speakers, I find them hilarious with their dance.

Anyhow, thank you.