HEARTFORGE - sensitIV (Session 4)

[idolpro]

You are in the heart of a massive forge. In front of you are tools, and your objective is clear - to use them to channel the strength of your heart and create.

What are you creating? Who can say. Only you - and only you'll know if - and when, it's good enough. The stories before you are not yours right now, but you'll make them yours soon enough.

And you will survive.

Comments

vs devotion/victory, betrayal/loss; cw mass dismemberment, decapitation, gore, rape

[sancrimony]

As if your mind was creaking, you saw a dream of battle.


That world was on the verge of death from the start. The malice of the rulers covered the land, and they greedily devoured the meat of the weak who were unable to even resist.

The weak could only despair. As they continued to be exploited, they eventually found a single thing to rely on—words of salvation filled with love.

Beautiful words that couldn’t be defeated by starvation, poverty or despair… But the rulers tried to take even that from them. It was no longer exploitation; it was murder.

So they rose up. Their fear of having their right to live taken away overcame their fear of dying in battle.

Among them was you. No one knew whether your presence there was a coincidence or the will of God, but before anyone realized it, the you were leading them.


Your battle should have no defeat. And no victory either.


Because by rising up, you were both losers and victors at the same time. Indeed, you had no fists to swing; all you had left was the power to rise up. However, the act of rising up itself was a necessary act. You rose up for the sake of what you believed in—that in itself was important and what you wished for. The sacrifices would be kept to a minimum, and even if several people including yourself became sacrifices, the world wouldn’t die, but would instead be reborn.

…That was how it should have been.

Even God will occasionally exercise malice due to good will. The miraculous power granted to you by God brought the possibility of victory that should have been impossible.

Miracles are, after all, things that only happen rarely. A miracle is a phenomenon that occurs when the heavens, earth and all people mesh together, and even then it still requires that everything be left to the roll of the dice.

Unfortunately, you attained victory.

Everyone went wild and became excited over the victory. They clung to you, who had won a battle where victory should have been impossible, as a child of miracles. That foolish purity of theirs troubled you.

You shouldn’t have won. Winning was not an option. You had been caught up in saving lives in the near future and averted your eyes from the bigger picture.

You may bite a cornered cat—but after being bitten, the enraged cat would retaliate by slaughtering you and yours. That was the truth of this world.


I was naïve.


The cut-off heads of old people, the men chopped up like experimental animals, babies pierced by spears, girls violated in the pursuit of lust and then thrown away afterwards—It was truly a place worthy of being called hell. And the countless lives gathered here were not taken away by the enemy, but by you. You were convinced of that—and yet, that made it all the more impossible for you to yield and give up.

You, without once changing expression, accepted this result with a will of steel. You merely gazed at this scene of ruin. You revealed no resignation or sorrow and even overcame the pain of your dismembered arms.

You accepted that you had lost.

You accepted that you would die.

You accepted that the responsibility for all their deaths lay with you.

But the one thing you wouldn’t accept—was that everything would fall to ruins after this. You couldn’t accept it. After having wasted so many lives, you absolutely could not accept that nothing would be gained as a result.

So you asked God to give you another chance. Next time, you won't lose sight of the bigger picture—next time, you'll do it right.

—You saw a happy dream of prayer that mesmerized your mind.