With Weary Steps we Walk

Til the Sand Scatters Away to Rock

On this Earth We Find Solid

Ground

Are you Grounded?

Asmodeaus Questioned himself.

I know who I am, Where I am, What I am, and Where I'm going. I exist.

He is in the 8728th Abyss layer, connected to a human body on some material plane.

Asmodeaus frowned. He needed more accounts. It's too boring to only follow one storyline.

Each person is a story, each thread a draft.

Asmodeaus was made of numerous strings and could juggle many tasks at the same time. All it took was a little management skills. Notifying yourself when things were incorrect.

He spread his book to more new planes. Looking and looking for someone to inspire.

Isn't it good to make connections? Meeting new friends, new faces.

Although most didn't last half a day.

Asmodeaus lamented that their training for demonology was so backwards.

Perhaps the fault lies with him?

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But he did not want to change.

Ah, a new story, a new story.

Everyone always wants something new.

What's not good with rehashing the old?

An exposé on literature.

Rereading, rewriting, making the old new again.

It's just in a different form. How can anyone call that creativity?

It's plagiarism. Creative plagiarism. Down the grapevine, the same story may be told 1,000 different ways and be 1,000 different stories.

But the essence should remain the same, should it not?

All works are one.

A word.

A sound.

It's the spoken form of binary.

1s and 0s, in a cacophony of silence. Computer noises.

The 8728th floor of the abyss really wasn't that bad. There was food and shelter and an abundant amount of beautiful demon girls. What more could you want?

However, Asmodeaus had stopped being drawn to the conventional long ago. The only thing that could slightly shake his heart were beautiful landscapes.

Landscapes of cities in ruin.

Landscapes of fire burning the mountainside.

Landscapes of stones with blood splattered on them.

Landscapes of pathways and roads winding and twisting with no end.

Landscapes of kittens and mountains and trees and boats and rivers.

That was what Asmodeaus wanted to find. A landscape that could be immortalized.

Perhaps he could even be inside the landscape himself, floating in the center, the world revolving around him.

Asmodeaus felt a new tug. Ahh, one of the books he had sent out had found a loveable little lamb.

This book was unlike the last book, this one could summon him with a special dance.

All you had to do was follow the rhythm prescribed and swing your arms to the cosmic rhythm and they would be able to share frequencies.

Asmodeaus smiled a little. The bait had taken the hook. The book had baited the take.

Anyway--A new friend would show up soon.

In another material plane--A young girl around the age of 20 was trying to dance. It was a dance she found from a traveling salesman he was giving out for a deal.

Finally she managed to get the dance right. She felt a surge of energy in her upper body. And heard a voice-- "What do you wish?"

The girl was shocked and confused. She answered "I don't know what I wish for."

"When you find out, dance again."

Asmodeaus disconnected. There was no rush. Everyone had something to ask.