Hmm...
I thought a little longer about the question about clocks with their hands moving in strange manners.
If it was me, I think I'd watch for a little, because think about it, a magic clock. How amusing is that?
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The moon had already replaced the sun in the sky, and Hevel now sat on the bed of the princess. The princess was aslumber in eternal sleep, the bed velvet red.
For only a moment, the hero wondered what he was doing. Who was he supposed to be? A hero would not murder a princess. If he wasn't a hero, Hevel did not know who he was. He felt like a marionette, controlled not by a higher power or a great mage, but by himself. By the unknown machination of his mind.
There was no need to think, for his mind would think for him. His instinct is the path he took every day - a pattern.
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The man shut his eyes, attempting to reset the tiredness of his eyes. When he parted the eyelids, he analyzed the beautiful colours, and it was enough to make him happy.
His original goal created eons past, the Hevel of the unknown cycle continues the work of his name. The man wants nothing, nothing but the perfect world. When his work was done, he could finally rest.
As for the princess, Hevel wanted a beautiful, sensational death, fitting of a royal. One that no one who witnessed it will ever forget. Sadly, it was now time to leave, as the guards hurriedly approached the chamber. It was not yet time for Hevel rest.
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"Dr.■■■, what do you think it feels like after death?"
"Jesus, can't you just ask me normal questions?"
"Do you think it's cold? Warm? Somewhere in between?"
"Well, it's definitely not cold, warm or anything in between. I mean, unless you went to heaven or hell of course. But realistically, you probably wouldn't feel anything. I mean, your brain stopped functioning, so you wouldn't know if you were being cooked to stored in a freezer"
"Mmm... That just made me hungry for meat"
"What the hell man...."