I was never one to believe in a god.
And I hadn't grown to be someone who did. Perhaps once in a while, I'll look up to the sky and think, who was so cruel to create something such as humanity.
There was a phrase I heard once.
"Did god create humanity because he was lonely or did humanity create god because of their loneliness?"
I always believed in the latter.
Now, I stand above all, both man and monster; above the dead and living.
It felt… exhilarating.
This must be how god felt.
My heart was racing so fast that it might just stop.
But if it stopped now, I might just leave with no regrets. In fact, I might just jump from up here, with my bones broken. But when you see my dead body on the ground, sluggish and dead, you might just see me smile.
I understood god now. Because if I had been in the sky, staring down at mankind for millennia, I would lose the feeling of giving a damn to them too.
Even when I killed the child, I only felt a little remorse.
Because how could I take the life and future of a newborn?
When I realized it wasn't human, I felt better. I am only human, after all. I have emotions.
But… if you ask me who is at fault for my joining the rounds…
I would simply say:
It is no one but god.
God said to the woman, reworded by yours truly; "I shall make your childbirth so severe that you will respect your husband and let him rule over you."
What kind of god was that?
This god-fearing world is broken.
The god you fear does not care for you.
Your husband does not give a damn about you.
A world without a god is much more pleasant.
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy.
The high-pitched song echoed throughout the theater. I could hear the voices of Jin and Kim, leading the audience and the humans to sing. Sing, sing, sing!
"Sing along, you bastards!"
"Who are you to force us?"
"Just sing!"
If I end up being wrong about my belief and I end up standing before God in the hereafter, one of us will beg for forgiveness.
And it won't be me
I tapped the magician's stick on the podium's fence. No…
[Your role is Conductor]
The conductor's baton.
I raised it in the air along with my other arm. My hands whipped through the air, overseeing and guiding the people's tongues. The behemoths had begun singing along the words subconsciously.
What a band Queen was. Their songs could cut through the malicious faces of behemoths. Not just in a literal sense.
I sculpt the song, my right guiding the tempo and the left, its pitch. Swaying against the air, slicing along the time signature.
I adjusted my hands as I listened. High pitch, low, quiet. I cannot exhale nor can I inhale. I am not among the people, I am above them.
[Reverie was no longer cowering before the crowds]
[He was not one with the people]
[He ruled over them]
My teeth showed as I grinned. The Narrator knew me well.
"I am not lead, I lead."
I sliced the air with my baton.
[You have created a saying]
[The custom saying, I am not lead, I lead, curated from the song Bohemian Rhapsody, has been created]
The humongous behemoth had begun to rouse from its sleep. It writhed and groaned in its sleep.
He was coming. I'm sure of it.
I'm not talking about the behemoth.
I glanced above to see the balcony.
In an instant, a man jumped from the sky, shattering the theater roof, sword in hand. He slashed the stomach and eye of the behemoth, the pus and blood shooting out.
Each strand of his red hair glowed in the sun as he landed on the behemoth— the theater had begun to disperse as if it had never existed. His brows were sharp as if a master calligraphist had done the most masterful stroke they could. The iron armor gleaming, his blue robe wrapped around his waist. He was as handsome as poison and had the personality of a burning sun. Innocent and ruthless all at once.
This man was very dear to me. So how could I be mistaken?
I took a deep breath and a greater look at him.
My one and only creation. My son.
Benedict Leyendecker.
-
I walked along the stage, tripping on dead bodies and such.
My clothing had dissolved into what my former clothing was, a scrub. I wrote a mental note to find other clothing as it was getting itchy.
The afternoon sun glimmered like glitters on my eyeballs.
The theater had disappeared and unraveled our setting.
I was back in Eisenblad. This time, I was not greeted by the loud wheels of carriages and steam trains as I usually do when I arrive home after travel. At present, I could only be greeted by smoking and disintegrating buildings and houses. The debris was everywhere.
My home is no more.
I thought, the apocalypse really is reality now.
I wondered how The Federation people were doing.
I spotted a blond boy, barely sixteen, lifeless and perished. His face was aghast, with only the whites of his eyes visible. His mime outfit had broken down into an outfit of a male ballerina.
"Stubborn 'till the very end…" I spat, nudging his leg. "Lucas Fleming."
I wasn't able to question him about what he had uttered. Harbingers of the apocalypse? I already had a feeling on who was behind it.
I walked towards the knight as he eyed me carefully. On the way I stopped by another body— multiple bodies of people I won't remember, actually— but this one caught my eye.
A woman with platinum blonde hair. My eyes widened as I realized who it was.
So she didn't survive either… It's too bad. I hoped we could've become comrades.