His imagination stabbed his eyes, blood, tears and whatever the hell had become of him, had changed.

It all seemed to happen within seconds, moments even. Yet, in reality, who knew... time had ceased to exist the second a large white worm with an eye on its forehead materialized in front of him.

Guillerme didn't scream, didn't yell, he didn't panic either. Instead, he stared in wonder. That worm, it was beautiful. The little black specks that dotted the sphere of light emitted a lot of colour as they were shining brighter than the sun itself.

Eternity passed for those who were frozen in time, as it would in stale space and stagnant air, there was nothing. Even when they began to blink and turn away and shield their eyes. That creature looked at them, stared and blinked as it said something incomprehensible. It took the eye from its forehead and handed it to the closest living thing near it, which was granted to Idalia; her lips quivered and she felt as if she fell backwards into a state of shock as she tried to not get knocked unconscious.

The worm soon became less defined, its eye sockets turning into orbs, its eye disappearing and fading, its scales going down to reveal the veins beneath, 8 veins, each longer than the other. It spoke in that language that seemed foreign to her, "Hear. Your fate."

Something happened. Time started again. That thing disappeared.

They—The Tree had no peace as they had no innards, and nearly no body to speak of. Just wood and a bark with a congested maw that spewed out nonsense.

Time was once again linear as the forest floor lay before the boy who found himself to be only himself. He had no memory of who he was, nor where he was. A grassy plain, nothing but the wind and the atmosphere to keep his existence safe and a warm embrace, it reminded him, oh, no it did not.

There was no true sense of self at that moment. Just a young child who was walking about for a second. He walked on the path of stone, where flowers of many shapes and colors grew out from the gaps between rocks.

The path lead him somewhere, almost living. The boy thought to himself, 'What is that...?'. He raised his hand outwards, grasping the air, the cold and empty air as his fingers attempted to grapple an invisible opponent. 'I'm lost, what can I do now? Where am I?' He asked himself, scared as a little boy his age should be.

The sky shone as the darkness from the clouds danced across the ground and he looked up to see, 'a shadow', but he didn't know whether that was unnatural or not. So, he walked towards that thing... a thing with rugged textures and colors that were simply abnormal. They did not move as shadows usually did. So, the boy decided to reach for its long tendrils that swished past his face, a strong wind coming from an invisible force, perhaps an invisible one, perhaps it was tiny limbs with tiny fingers...

They were cold... as he grasped what seemed to be a bunch of unconnected pieces of flesh and tissue, a few hard pieces too.

Yet, they were all connected. As he held onto the flesh with both of of his hands.

The flesh was solid, it was rough, it felt as though it would hurt him instead if he tried to rub against it.

"We are the only ones here." The congested mind spoke.

"Where's the rest of the existence. Who are these? Are they alive, are they dead? There has to be some meaning to everything."

"Listen... child, there are none but me. This world has left you for nothing but an eternal slumber in this soul... what lies below?"

"And what? And what, have you... have you not any answers for any questions?" The boy questioned.

"Child... you do not wish for these answers, I assure you. Please, allow me to help you, help you escape this place and allow us, as beings to understand."

It would take some time. And he eventually answered.

"Okay... but... where did the darkness go?" He said, blinking. His eyes were filled with darkness as his gaze fell to the void underneath.

"To the light, but it is nothing to worry about. To darkness, you must answer: Darkness. No light is ever needed in a world of shadows."

The boy opened his eyes. All color in his skin had vanished as his vision was slightly distorted, but he was fine.

The congested mind extended its tendril-like branches towards the boy, allowing him to climb up, step by step as he refused to look back. Fear made its presence apparent, as the branches pierced through his spine, but that was not a surprise, just like when his body collapsed and the pain of a thousand knives tore through his mind and tore apart his spirit. Yet, the boy lived on, unmoving.

The branches extended upwards, presenting him to the dark sky above. "■■■■■! We understand! You... you are a god... So please, accept our 'Soul'. It's only right, I beg you for this one wish!" It pleaded to the boy who held an odd look on his face.

"....Gh....gh..." the boy blurbled something that sounded like speech, his lips curling up and down as he slowly lost control. "...Khhhh...guhk..gg" The branches broke and became parts of the earth. The boy began to bleed and puke, coughing up dark blood, with bits of flesh and some form of viscera falling alongside it as he flailed his arms, gasping for air.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Kkrghh...heckk.." The branches quickly slither around the boys' body, constricting tightly. The boy struggles. As the branches loosen and his face becomes distorted from the pressure.

"Please.... we beg for your acceptance, as we do with everyone. Your salvation... we beg!" It pleaded to him again.

But no response ever came, a cold look stared up at him and the boy clutched tightly at the branches around him.

And to no voice that shall ever speak again, to no words or letters that shall ever be seen again, to no tone or accent that shall ever be heard again. None spoke, none spoke, none heard, but he knew, and that is all that mattered.

The black substance surrounded him. It engulfed everything around him. His blood and gore melted along with him and it flowed through his mind as he closed his eyes.

Nothing could be known, not even how long he slept or awoke after his 'Birth'

In that void.

It all fell down on the congested mind, as they felt flesh once again, as feeling returned to their now rotten limbs. And then the eyes were shut, their bones creaking under the new weight, as the ground broke apart and formed a floorboard that floated across the air.

They found peace in his innards.

.....

He saw Alice again, she woke up, screamed and regurgitated whatever was left in her stomach and bile that she could produce, until her stomach was empty and there was no fluid.

As he perceived, hours upon days had passed within himself. But he figured maybe that wasn't the case for reality.

But now it mattered not, for his name, his meaning had been revealed to him, even if partially.

His fate. His end goal...

A goddess that could lead people and that would guide people to their end. That's who he would look for.

"Alice." He said a name to nobody.

Zabulus, Guillerme, Idalia. who are they, to be one person anyways? He had died but hadn't died?

There was no ending to this thought of his, no answer ever came, just, things. Questions, that he didn't answer.

And at the same time, his voice rang through his head and was heard by those who are present here. He was thinking aloud.

"Dying once is enough, but I can't even escape the endless cycles. I... don't think my existence can be removed either way, so why bother?" He shrugged and smiled at the universe around him. Does he really have an infinite amount of thoughts within his head or was the entity 'trying' to speed the conversation by only letting him hear what it wanted to?

"Dying twice will give you an alternate route or perspective. Why did I become what I did when I met you within the soul in the realm of the infinite? Is it related to you? What exactly is the purpose behind all this madness you are having us go through?"

Who was talking at this point, was beyond anyone. It was both Zabulus and him in their separate personas and entities and persons. It was merely a mixture of their memories. And as he pondered, 'who would remember any of it?'

'Nobody. But don't let yourself laze about and remember these dreams, remember these thoughts... the cycle, it, will only grow worse if you, we... are not broken...'

The entity, it had already begun, there was no need to rethink a decision.

'Decisions...' He chuckled again. 'Hahaha.'

And they waited. But nothing happened. No response. No thoughts. They wondered.

'Maybe we should have taken another way...? Maybe that choice, that decision, that action...'

'No, Z■■■■, you have done nothing that is deserving of any form of punishment. Not to mention that most gods and beings will surely begin to think ill of you if we start going that path. But what am I trying to convince you of? Those monsters do not care, do not give them an idea of who we are, or they will pierce their hands right into your gut. Only we can decide our own paths and future.'

He said. They agreed, nodding and standing.

'With the whole 'dying' part... I...' He spoke sentimentally in the first time in forever.

"Laz." Alice sighed, snapping him out of his trance. He did a double-take before she spoke once again.

"His dead... b-body" Alice stuttered, and he hesitated before responding. "Guillerme... what... what happened to him... he-! H-He! And his organs!!! Why would you just cut Laz's guts off!? Do you have ANY IDEA?!" Her anger seemed misplaced.

He shook his head. "No... you're mistaken..." He placed a hand of his upon her shoulder, her memory slowly seeping away as he ate the witness of a murder. "That, was a trick played on your mind by those foul spirits... "

"But..!"

"You mustn't believe in anything but me... for I am all that is left." Such an easy lie. One could get lost if their life was like this, or if they had too many. The 'fear of existence' wasn't really something that could truly manifest itself upon such an advanced and knowledgeable being.

Well, that was a thought that nobody could understand, if this was all he'd see, it'd be the first time. In reality, nobody was not experiencing the same thing, they would've probably come to an agreement over one single detail: The complexity of it all.

What it comes down to is what we desire, what we hope will turn our fears and terrors into peace. Something that will make us feel good when we finish living, and then death can do us part. If it existed, well, that's another question entirely.

Look at it this way; people's lives and consciousnesses can, at most, live forever, and then they'll have achieved some sort of nirvana or ethereal state. Even if they only reach half of those kinds of states, or aren't on the full spectrum, their eternal life can last long enough for one of them to 'wish to die', to 'be done' after a thousand years or several of 'ever-lasting torture', as those terms are commonly misconceived and mixed with the concepts of these concepts.

At some point, perhaps all life comes to a climax where no growth or further 'progression' or 'release' is required of their short, momentary lifetime. Thus, in the end, it is up to the gods to make all this meaningful for both themself and their mortal allies, perhaps they will become one with God.

So this question has now entered his mind; does it matter anymore?

Yes, it does. Now, all that's left to do is to kill the Goddess, and show her his prowess. He'll eat and gain all her wisdom, knowledge, and her strength.

As a certain saying goes;

"Lust destroys a man's soul, Greed devours his dreams, but Fear breaks his will."

Who is to say whether all three are right and all three are wrong...

Perhaps the divine cannot have compassion.

Just some contemplations for a Godless and hateful society like the current one.