I wanted to scream, I wanted to get up and at least try to cripple him. There were so many things I wanted to do in the short time since my father was dead.
Seeing his motionless body on the floor, with blood gushing from his cut neck, made you want to cry. All I could do was look and think. Who would have thought that time would become my greatest enemy? What I thought was on my side, at least until death, betrayed me in the worst possible way.
In books for clever people, authors like to correlate concepts, abstract ideas, with objects. We call this "metaphor." And the metaphor here is: time is like a clock that needs a battery, but doesn't have one.
Exactly, time was stopped. And it was in the literal sense, not metaphorically. Now, how?
The only being capable of stopping time was the universe itself, and the person in front of me was not the universe. Of course, there was another way, but... that object is a myth. Some say it still exists in another world, hidden beneath the wings of a being stronger than the gods and weaker than the universe.
I, personally, don't believe this object exists. Stopping time is a break in reality itself; stopping time is disastrous, and not in the way old movies portray it. But if it does exist, and I'm wrong, then even the great Pigledo can't stop this man dressed in gold and beige.
After making sure the man in front of him was completely dead, the masked man turns and says:
"Sorry, kid, some people need to die. Your daddy did something so bad that what you usually do makes you look like a baby. In fact, compared to all the evil in this world, you are a baby. And I am a hydrogen bomb. You would be very smart if you didn't look for me. But if you don't have the patience to keep living, call me, and I'll appear. And your sister, I'm thinking of taking her with me. What do you think? And then, seeing her, I will go after your brothers, I will hunt them down relentlessly, until your patience runs out and you call upon me to reclaim your honor. Again, I say, it would be very prudent if you did not seek me out, but I doubt you can lose them all without going mad." The man says in an ethereal voice, sweet, yet firm and accentuated, each word crafted to strike where it hurt.
I couldn't fight the man!
My father is stronger than me, so it was to be expected that I would lose to the masked man.
Paper loses to scissors, and scissors lose to rock, therefore, is rock the strongest? No! Rock loses to paper, which is something that loses to scissors, which is subsequently weaker than rock.
This I call the paradox of power. Who wins is not important, only the means, the way in which they win matters. This is what my father used to say in Zequila's sword training lessons.
So, my father losing to him doesn't mean I lose to him. I only lose in the eyes of others, I only lose if it all ends, if I die. Loss is death, and as long as I remain alive, I don't think I will truly lose. Losing isn't factual, it's subjective, it depends on the person.
For a knight, dying in battle protecting the nation or a beautiful maiden means winning, but for a baker, dying in war means losing.
The human mind isn't the same for everyone. I enjoy the pleasure of killing and raping, but my brothers don't! I enjoy seeing the entrails of a beautiful girl in the open air, but the womens who died at my hands certainly don't.
As I've already said, death is subjective, and it's a good thing it is. Not everyone likes what others like, and that's normal. For me, I only accept death if I have at least entered my sister's entrails at least once in my life. That's all I ask of the gods so that I may be happy in my death. I hope they're listening, that I'm not going to die today. I refuse, I refuse, and I refuse.
I am the son of the strongest man in this world. Besides, how did my father lose? He's the strongest person in these galaxies, so how? I want to kill this powerful man in front of me, but I can't even move. How pathetic am I, that I can't even protect myself? 'The new king of Z!!!', that's what I wanted to be called, I wanted the maids to be happy to meet me, but no, I will be remembered instead as the man who lost the galaxy to a stranger and the bitchy queen Ariana. And I say stranger because the H he has on his left eye doesn't make him a man of H. There are so many places with H, and the H itself meant so many different things.
The man walks closer to me and pulls from his incredibly clean cloak a lightless watch. Completely black, as if the life that never existed had ceased to exist, as if the predator's prey had turned against it and killed it, the prey had become the predator, the balance between black and white was broken, life undone. That was what the clock was like. Looking at it was...
Even if it's just looking at an enraged tiger without any weapon to face it. The fear is real and palpable. What is this clock?
"Ah, this?" and he brings the clock close to my face. If I was already afraid of this damned clock before, then now I'm willing to die just to avoid having it touch my face. "Precipice of Time. Have you heard of it?"
Damn it, damn it, damn it!!! So he really has this relic. Damn it! And now, how do I survive this? I'm not an Eternyur, or a deity, or a Gâmode! I may be the son of the most powerful king in this world, but not even my father can stand up to a Gâmode or a deity, or an Eternyur with a reality break!
"Oh my gods, I completely forgot that this is activated. Don't worry, I'll snap you out of this state just so you can talk" and he does indeed pause time, but as he said, it will only be for me.
He was mocking me.
As soon as he pauses, I grab a knife and cut my wrist. As soon as I do, I shout to the heavens, "Oh, my arcane being, show yourself and judge this man who killed without revealing the motive! Oh, my arcane being, my great elder of judgments, of justice and injustice, show yourself and judge this damned one who dares to dishonor me from all my glory and happiness. Judge this vile soul that is such a man, before he goes mad and starts killing just because he can! Divine judgment!!!" And in that way, the space around me darkens, and both I and the damned one before me are trapped in the main hall of the land of judgments. The entire land itself was golden, except for the room we were in. Before us stood the arcane being, an old figure in the form of an old man dressed in gold, with a small halo above his shaved head.
"Oh, my boy. What kind of justice are you seeking here in this humble room?"
"That man killed my father!" I said, suppressed my anger.
The arcane looked at the wretch with unhappiness.
"I see... but... why?" he asked, activating the gift of truth upon the vile man before him. Anyone placed before the gift of truth could not lie.
"Equivalence, old man."
What? Equivalence?
"Oh," the arcane being said in surprise, and the golden light surrounding the wretch shone a vibrant green, like nature itself blooming in the hot, harsh desert. "You're right, at the end of the day, it all comes down to a matter of giving and receiving. Zeckony paid for what he stole from you."
What? How so? For him to justify his action with equivalence, that means my father killed someone important to that damned man. Which was very strange, since my father isn't the type to kill without reason, and apparently, neither was this man.
"Before you leave here, you who justified the death of the king of Z, have the right to ask something of the Zirinos, and he has to do it regardless of what it is. So, what will it be?"
"I don't want anything. Just get us out of here."
"Very much…" But before the arcane could finish the sentence, I raise my voice and shout!
"Arcane! Your master was dead by this bastard, and you're not going to do anything?"
"Ah, if I could, little one. But as you said, my master is now dead and you don't yet have the power to control me. When you become strong, I will give you the power to decide what is right and what is wrong. But until then, become strong..."
I wanted to scream so much to the gods, but I had no voice for it, and when I fell from the heavens to this land of mine, what I encountered saddened me. Fortunately, the arcane had the decency to send the damned thing elsewhere.
The ballroom was in total pandemonium, the noble children ran to their parents' arms crying, the elders were running, and in a short time, the luxurious room was completely empty, just like what I feel in my chest.
My brothers dragged me to a small planet-ship to escape this place I call home.
From afar I see some A-ships taking off from this beautiful planet, and from them emerged armed men who ran through the golden streets of Z, raping and killing mothers, daughters, sons, grandmothers, grandfathers, and fathers. In the background of the landscape, I see a little girl having her mother taken away and destroyed in various ways before her eyes, unable to do anything; the poor thing was crying a lot.
Ah, if she only knew that she's next to suffer the insane mistreatment of those men from A... That's what I would do if I ever conquered another galaxy. Killing, raping, and destroying was the best, and in fact, the only way to take over a planet completely.
From the moment the planet-ship leaves the atmosphere and the capital planet is taken, my galaxy will effectively belong to Ariana, and I won't do anything about it. It's not like I can protect this land of mine the way I am. Especially with an enemy capable of stopping time.
When I'm stronger, I'll reclaim what is rightfully mine, but first, I need to get rid of the damned thing and I need to hide, but where? Which ones?
Are galaxies, in fact, next to Z? It's not like I can just walk around here asking, "Hello, I am Zirinos Sinéld Malor, the heir to the throne of Z." Doing that would be the equivalent of asking to be killed in the worst possible way, that is, if I say that to the wrong person.
What am I going to do now?
Where am I going to get enough power to kill the bastard or try to stop the bastard?
Besides, how am I going to find out who he is?
In the short time I've been with him, I haven't been able to hold a conversation with him. As much as I hate him, I'm afraid above all else, I'm so afraid that I embarrassed myself in front of the great arcanist.
What would my father say, seeing me act so pathetically like this?
What would he say?
I will get my hands dirty, I will suffer, but the bastard will die in my hands!
That is my manifesto of hatred!
If I have to kill children to kill him, I will kill! If I have to kill the people of my land in order to kill him, I will kill them. If I have to kill myself in order to kill him, then I will commit suicide!
I shall take his life!