Throughout eons in the vast unpredictable chaos, in many such clusters, a strange but symphonic entropy came to be that is known to be life.
Beings that sought understanding within the absurdity, becoming witnesses to it.
Then came another creation: Words.
A way to describe the reality, to pass on thoughts, experiences, and the existence of one another.
Words gave birth to language. Language gave birth to stories.
Stories carry knowledge and memory. They can enrich, or corrupt those who receive them. Among them, one form stands above the rest: history.
Everything that came to be holds a story.
An interesting story of a man who rose to become an emperor through countless battles…
To a mediocre past of a peasant working in endless fields…
To a completely uninteresting presence of a rock, unmoving for a millennia…
Even the smallest particle that flickers into existence, only to vanish.
All have existed.
All have stories.
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"This is not right…" A man's shaky voice ushered throughout the room.
"Master, we've done extensive research and came to this conclusion."
"How are they doing this…"
The man held his fingers interlaced, gently resting his elbows on his chair and leaning forward. He looked over at the woman in red standing in front of him with his brown, scary eyes.
The woman could not breathe properly in the presence of this powerful man on the dais, with his brown-grey hair looking disheveled.
Recently, his sect has come under a fire. Not a real fire of course, but the one where his empire is going bankrupt to.
For the past decades, he raised this sect that nurtured thousands. But now, it was nearing its end, and for what? The enemies kept releasing manuals that resembled his right before he released them.
This has happened for the third time now. The sect faced scrutiny, and slowly started to thin out.
"Haaah…" He heaved a sigh of dread.
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Far from the current sect. Towards the North-East, stood a quiet city surrounded by walls from all but west side, as the city was etched into a giant mountain range.
A two-story stone tavern stood somewhere in the city, one look at the sign at the entrance and you could tell: this is "The Million Drinks".
"Over here, Mo Yingui! I want some too!" Someone called towards a middle-aged bartender with short, pure white hair.
"Roger that." Mo Yingui turned around with a big smile, holding beer in both of his hands.
He looked, scanned the service point with his red eyes and quickly slapped the back of someone's hand.
"Mo Weiyun, don't you dare! That meat is for table 9, start moving!" Mo Yingui yelled at a man with long white hair and a long mustache.
"Okay, okay… I got it!" Mo Weiyun replied.
"Haa… What am I going to do with this guy." He said as he served dishes. He looked in the window, up at the moon. And added: "This is going to be a long night."
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Not too far from the city, towards South West…
"What is this thing…!" A man whaled in terror.
"Brother, do not falter! He is crazy!"
Over three dozen warriors surrounded a half-dead man. Both eyes gouged out, bleeding. Lips fully cut off, the cheeks were torn, showing his shattered teeth. One arm had an arrow in the shoulder, he could not move it. The long hair was disheveled, cut and torn.
"…"
"Monster! You will face justice for all the things you've done!"
The mysterious madman charged towards a random direction.
Everyone shook, scared, unable to hold the sword properly in front of a man that literally did not know fear, sorrow nor anything except anger.
The crazy person got stabbed by the man in the front, but he did not hesitate, he bit down the soldier.
He got stabbed from all sides, but he kept screaming.
"Why are you doing this!" The bitten man yelled.
The chaotic fiend spit out the man's flesh.
"I WILL NOT!" He yelled, blood splattering everywhere.
"What is this bastard on about! Quickly finish him off!"
Stab. Stab. Stab.
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"This life is full of needed happiness~
That's the rule of a happy-go-lucky man~
Every morning it starts heating, please stop it
Every night it's colder with the food bowl full~"
A man sang willy-nilly with a guitar in hand, passing by couple of middle-aged men working in the fields.
"Good morning to you all!"
"Peter! Come help us out young man!"
"Of course. At your service uncle Marcus."
Peter ran over and put down his guitar under a tree, took off his jacket and threw over a trunk. He smiled at the young woman sitting under the tree, who held his guitar. Peter rolled up his sleeves and ran towards the fields.
"Haah, that idiot." Said the woman, heaving a sigh and then she smiled with cheeks flushed red.
Peter and uncle Marcus worked on tilling the soil with an old bull along with some men. The others worked on plucking the weeds. While the girl took Peter's stuff inside one of the two houses nearby and prepared food along with her mother.
Night arrived and the area in front of the two houses was filled with floating lit candles, shining much brighter than they should. Trees surrounded the table full of food with over a dozen people sitting. The young woman kept bringing food with her mother as the young man kept peeking glances at her while smiling from the table.
"Thank you for helping son." Uncle Marcus shook Peter's hand.
"With pleasure, uncle." He bowed his head. Acting high and mighty.
"Look at this pretentious brat!" Another elderly man chimed in.
"Hahaha! Great, isn't he? He is going to be my son-in-law!"
"Uncle?!" He blushed and shook his head.
"Oh come on, we all see how much you two keep glancing at each other." Said Aunt Ann, Marcus' wife.
Peter could only stop talking and keep eating, embarrassed.
"To our futures!" Said the person sitting at the head of the table.
Everyone said in unison: "Cheers!"
The young woman sat between uncle Marcus and his wife – her mother. Throughout the meal, those two kept glancing at each other with occasional sudden eye contacts, then quickly followed by bashful avoidance.
Much time passed and everyone kept leaving.
"I shall head home now, I forgot to look after the flowers." Said peter.
Aunt Ann whispered to the young maiden "You better hurry, or it'll be too late~" with a smug look. "M-mother..!" she replied, face flushed all over.
While Peter kept walking towards his home, he heard strong footsteps of someone running and panting behind him. He looked back and widened his eyes…
"Mary, why are you running?" Peter asked.
"…"
"You okay?" He leaned closed and put his hands over her shoulders.
Mary's face was red as a tomato.
"Umm…" She could not get to say it.
"It's okay, I can wait, you can say it slowly."
"The e-elders kept speaking nonsense!" She blurted.
Peter kept waiting, he knew she was not done.
"However, they… were not wrong." She suddenly made eye contact with a serious expression. Which made Peter flinch.
Peter could do nothing but lower his head and nod in embarrassment.
He then looked straight at her.
"Mary, they were not wrong even a single time about my feelings towards you." He put his hand lightly on his chest.
Mary smiled and leaned in to him.
"Then, I'll be waiting tonight." She turned around and powerwalked home.
All peter could do was zone out, as he watched the girl quickly stride towards her home. Peter fell to the ground, unable to think, looking straight at the starry sky.
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Stories can take on many forms. Stories such as the massive boulder about to crack and cause an avalanche. A story of a calm breeze moving along as usual. A violent thunder striking a tree in an endless storm and disappearing along with it. A delicate flower reaching full maturity, beautifully dancing with the sun.
Those examples are not random, dear reader, they are analogs of certain people's lives, albeit much simpler.
Let us now take a look at a snowflake slowly falling to the ground, covering the whole world in a white coating with its fellow fragile friends-
"ARRGGHHH!!! SHUT UP STUPID NARRATOR!"
"Three years! That's how long I've been stuck here! In this body! I'm almost 23 now…"
He gently caressed his long black hair. The front part let loose along with the lower back. The middle and top back part of his head was tied neatly, enhancing his looks.
"Just why did it have to be me~!" He put his left hand on his chest, right hand looking up at the sky. A perfectly executed melodramatic stance along with his crocodile tears would make anyone pity him.
"Though I am liking my appearance! Any-" Female gorilla would gladly take him as a mate.
"… Wow…"
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"No no no! Do not use that '. . .' scene changing on me! I'm the main character, why is my screen time so little!"
Who said you were the main character?
"Look at the synopsis you bastard!"
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"NO!"
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