003. [Broadcast Mind] dreams start their drifting and you hear a lullaby~
Let me tell you a story.
The surroundings are completely out of focus, but it seems to be snowing. Such a white windswept flurry that it makes it difficult to make out anything beyond the storm.
Everything is dead silent -- until something starts to come into focus. It's a tree. No detail is discernible, but it's just an out-of-focus tree, completely charcoal-black, the limbs and trunk visibly twisted and gnarled. The silence is broken by a gasp, and then a pained grunt. Something falls with a thick thud!, and then there's another thud! barely a moment later. Breathing now, heavier and heavier by the second, until it becomes panting, a sound gripped with panic. Just to the left of the tree, another shape begins to come into view, though it slowly becomes more and more focused as the breathing continues, and there's rustling to accompany it.
It's a gravestone, with just a very short, simple sentence engraved in the stone: Don't stop. Keep walking.
"Why--!"
The one word ends in a small, feminine whimper. Her voice is hushed, quiet-- But there's more hurting in it than there is fear.
Silence continues for a moment longer, and her noises cease.
There's a soft chuckle as the snow itself finally comes into full focus, and it's not snow at all... It's playing cards that have been torn up into the tiniest pieces possible with human hands. A larger piece flutters down and settles on the top of the gravestone. The ace of spades.
The chuckle is met with a sudden choked sob, then: "Hello, sister~"
Let me tell you a story.
When the world first became ripe for the picking, there was a boy.
He tried to change the world. But he failed. And he died, and was mourned, and so many questions were left unanswered.
The end.
The surroundings are completely out of focus, but it seems to be snowing. Such a white windswept flurry that it makes it difficult to make out anything beyond the storm.
Everything is dead silent -- until something starts to come into focus. It's a tree. No detail is discernible, but it's just an out-of-focus tree, completely charcoal-black, the limbs and trunk visibly twisted and gnarled. The silence is broken by a gasp, and then a pained grunt. Something falls with a thick thud!, and then there's another thud! barely a moment later. Breathing now, heavier and heavier by the second, until it becomes panting, a sound gripped with panic. Just to the left of the tree, another shape begins to come into view, though it slowly becomes more and more focused as the breathing continues, and there's rustling to accompany it.
It's a gravestone, with just a very short, simple sentence engraved in the stone: Don't stop. Keep walking.
"Why--!"
The one word ends in a small, feminine whimper. Her voice is hushed, quiet-- But there's more hurting in it than there is fear.
Silence continues for a moment longer, and her noises cease.
There's a soft chuckle as the snow itself finally comes into full focus, and it's not snow at all... It's playing cards that have been torn up into the tiniest pieces possible with human hands. A larger piece flutters down and settles on the top of the gravestone. The ace of spades.
The chuckle is met with a sudden choked sob, then: "Hello, sister~"
Let me tell you a story.
When the world first became ripe for the picking, there was a boy.
He tried to change the world. But he failed. And he died, and was mourned, and so many questions were left unanswered.
The end.