Aug. 7th, 2020

—The world is ugly, he once declared.

Chaos is inevitable in this world. Pure good can’t be achieved, and pure evil breaks down. And these two extremes are always incompatible with each other. There is still some evil in a good world. That is how the world is, and it is what continues to create ugly things. Evil sneers at good, and good rages over evil. But, in a world where good and evil oppose each other, there is a group that is far more numerous that always appears.

That is ‘grey’. Neither good nor evil. A group that drifts through life haphazardly and merely exists. They don’t believe in goodness and are simply proud that they aren’t evil. Even though they affirm evil acts, they deny evil intentions. They happily say that ‘I am not evil, I am a good person’ and pardon all forms of cruelty.

They kill people while sneering. They kill people out of contempt. They kill people as part of a game. They use the excuse that they can’t restrain their desires—That’s how humans are. That’s how the world is.

Yes—this world is extremely ugly. Neither dyed by good nor fallen into evil. Unable to decide on a color, the wills of people continue to waver. As long as such evil intentions and such foul-smelling corpses aren’t destroyed.



The world will surely continue to rot eternally.

While wrapped within a curse-like fog in darkness frozen to its core.

He thus concluded.

Powers are off.
Corruptions are off.
Carry-on Weapons are not available.
Other carry-on items are available.
You wake up in an empty classroom. The bell rings, signifying it's the end of the day.



Desks line up, row by row, clean and orderly, and the large windows seem to showcase the cit of Tokyo-F. Wildfire is standing at the front of the classroom, wiping down the chalkboards. He's dressed the part, wearing his student uniform.

There are three doors attached to this classroom, a rainbow door labeled HOME, a snazzy, deep red door labeled HOME, and then a bloody door labeled TRAUMA.


It's dark... and a little cold.


Oh. You have a text-- wonder what that's about?


...


...


?


Hey, there's some junk in here that's not in the right spots. Take a good look around and fix that jazz. Everything's got a place or whatever.

No sense in hiding from yourself, right?








... what is this, a text for ants?

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