"Get it together!" Two loud slaps echo inside the run-down apartment. "You said one more coffee and meal and we would leave."

My legs shoot down, before loading back up like a piston as I finish crushing the last of the eggs in the room. My face is red, not from exhaustion or heat, but with the handprints of my palms.

"The night," I murmur. "It's just safer to spend a night here and leave as early as possible... Yes... That's right."

In the room, on the highest floor of the most structurally stable-looking building I was currently venting my anger on some insect hives. The weak moonlight slowly filled the room, barely going past the murky window.

Calmer, I rub my face, dispersing the shape of my hands from my cheeks. I look at the window, it goes from ground to ceiling, taking the entirety of the wall, and giving a view of where the sea once was. After crushing every hive on the way up I'm calmer, but not zen.

The window shatters loudly as a rock glinting with brownish liquid glows in the moonlight as glass rains on the city below. Without the barricade of the glass, moonlight floods the hotel room.

A smile finally forms on my face as I shake the goo from my legs. "This is it, just had to vent."

More than moonlight fills the room. Attracted by the loud sound and brown goo dirtying the edges of the glass, small black birds start perching. As soon as they land, they raise their feathers whose edges dulled by chitin glint slightly in the light. They prepare to attack me for the sweet nectar of the hive.

Still smiling, I lean down and pull one of the flashbangs from the side of my backpack, dipping it into the destroyed hive.

I watched their eager eyes follow my movements. If birds could drool, their beaks would be soaked. Only after thoroughly coating the flashbang did I pull it back up. Then, in one swift motion, I pulled the pin and tossed it over their heads and out the window.

They watched it leave a trail over the floor, seeming to get confused as it flew over their heads, dripping nectar on their feathers before plummeting down. It took a moment, but one bird dived after it, followed by the rest.

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I couldn't see it, but the explosion reverberated loudly through the night, followed by the birds' cries. Slowly, almost skipping, I walked to the window and perched on its edge.

I'm not cruel, much less violent. Sometimes, though, it felt good to act without overthinking. Was it truly cruelty if these birds would attack me given the chance? They thrived on targeting tired creatures, using their hardened feathers to make shallow cuts and then waiting for their prey to bleed out.

They're not stupid; they can recognize faces and, if frightened, would steer clear of a beast or area for a time. Smart, for birds, but miles behind a human mind.

With a carefree smile, I turned my head, feeling like a child as the wind tousled my clothes and hair.

"What makes life good?" I find myself thinking out loud.

It's not that money, and connections alone are not enough for a happy life, but could be one of the facets of happiness.

Looking down, I grab my stomach pudges, shaking it. Fitness? A healthy and fit body, while helpful for a happy life, is not enough in itself. Still holding my stomach, I look at the sky.

The moon is large, abnormally so. Like a god's marble eye, it dominates the sky, shining with a silver light that doesn't only feel like crystals dancing on your skin, but actually chimes lowly when touching the skin. The stars are enough to almost hide the darkness of space, creating an infinitely large tapestry of celestial grandeur.

Is it the sights? Do we live to see? To be an observer of what is born and dies?

"I don't think so."

Life is... Complicated. It has no inherent meaning beyond the copulation and survival of a species, which is why it's so complicated.

If we follow the rules of the universe, after we have two or more offspring our job here is done. We could just stop doing anything until our bodies shut down and we become sustenance to the next.

I'm not grappling with the question of life's mysteries for the first time. I've wondered about the meaning of life as a child after falling from a tree and almost cracking my head open and will do it when the reaper's hands wretch my soul from my body.

What makes life good? Whatever you decide, I want to see things. I want to do what I couldn't do before, to see new things, to experience them. I watched a war spread in the world through a screen, I read how a gourmet plate is made and appreciated, and I've seen people drown at sea for underestimating a storm.

I know about these things, experienced them to understand them. But I don't know them.

This time I want to be there, not to see the war but to be a part of it. To be the foot soldier unsure if they'll see another day and the general callous after losing so many men. I want to open a boar and stuff its insides with herbs before throwing it kicking and screaming in a hoven to see if fear truly enhances the taste. I want to feel the salt water filling my airways, I want to feel the adrenaline filling every inch of me as I fight to impossible shores.

I want everything.

"Damn," I whisper, my voice swallowed by the wind. "I'm so self-centered." I lean back, feeling the broken glass caressing my hair and back as my legs swing freely.

"Me, me, me, me." With a self-mocking grin, I raise my hand, fingers closing into a fist as if it were a puppet.

"Am I genuinely curious about the world, or just suicidal?" A bark of laughter leaves me, "'Feel the water fill my airways.' There's so many ways to feel adrenaline and that's where my mind goes to."

Moonlight floods my eyes and mind with the chiming of singing crystals. "Suicidal, brave, foolish... who cares? The world ended and people are too occupied with surviving another day. Who gives a damn what some random fool does with their life?"

A genuine, carefree smile spreads across my lips. "What makes life good? Who knows? I doubt I'll ever find a definitive answer, and whoever does will likely be called as a nerd."

For the first time in months, I closed my eyes and drifted into sleep unaided.