Walking through the avenue of broken dreams. In the Hell's Albion, with destitute beings loitering around randomly in the distance. Hans eyes darted across the setting horizon. With him his slowly diminishing dreams.
Even after knowing that there was a tomorrow, and a day after tomorrow, it broke him to realise that despite all of that he wasn't going to take it seriously. Dreams are going to stay as dreams because all he is good for, for the past few months is, dream and relapse back to this impulsive habits. He feels the pain and worthlessness. It's crushing him.
Why does he continue to do so? What makes him still try? His love is nothing but a thing of the past. The world has lost its meaning, things have started going black and white. Nothing is being seen as the rosy future, it was too late until he realised that watching through broken red glasses would just make all the red flags look like the ever so magical rosy future.
There is still hope for him despite the barren life at this stairway to Albion's core. Or so he thought. The cloudy skies, getting darker every passing moment. It was strangely peaceful. As if finally the broad sky above him reflects the state of his mind, he took a deep breath and kept moving forward. That's all he can do right now. Keep playing the cards he has been dealt with. Lonely and sad, going deeper to his very nemesis. He just wants all of this noise, expectation to just stop. He is yet to realise he is marching to his Death knowingly.
Maybe Hans knew about his last walk or maybe he didn't. He knew one thing for certain though, he'd never knowingly march to his death, the stakes aren't that bad yet. And yet he is marching, he believes that no matter how bad he is, he will fight till his last breath. In the face of death and pain and nightmares, he won't be an idle God. He's not the best but he has been at some point of his life. He has still been revered by few of his close ones as so. It's not even them that he has the urge to live. It's about life itself. He can't bring himself to hate it.
God can take his eyes, his arms, his legs and everything but he's give up a fight right till the very end, he knew that about himself. He was proud of it. And here at this desolate barren land, devoid of happiness he keeps moving forward. He felt his old God taking away the motivation with every step, but one thing they have not calculated was how much Hans can give. He can keep giving and giving. That's a big bet, challenging on the very fuel of your existence. Letting it slip away in an attempt to face your misery head on.
What is the point of everything. The lust, the greed, the love, peace, gratitude, and so on. They have no meaning without their counterpart. White is like Black, without a frame of reference like Black. Things in isolation has no meaning. Hans' soul was whispering to himself,
"In your isolation, you'll achieve omnipotence but is it worth it? There won't be anything left to be happy or sad about. Life is death and death is life. It's bliss and misery. It's the beginning and end."
Wiping away a drop of tear from the sides, Hans looked up at the slightly windy atmosphere above him. A small patch has cleared up just above him, a few stars shining barely like the hope in his heart amidst the dark clouds before the storm. He was not driving himself anymore, it was just his belief that that he'll fight it at the very end. It was risky and foolish. He smiled a bit, swallowed his ego. Turned around, saw his past. Turned forward looked at the stairway to hell. Was it the "Future"? Hans realised anything can be the future, it need not be the pain or his hell, it could be his past as well. He can keep moving in that same path again and again. It's not glorious but still fits the space time continuum. It's still a unique position for him in the universe. In fact, every moment is a gift as he is always in a new state.
He has no idea what the next moment will bring, even if every minute thing is predetermined and every action is deterministic from the time of the Big Bang and the birth of this universe. It's a gift that he has been ignorant just the right amount and mindful just in the exact state to appreciate and hate his existence. The boon and bane of life. He can do anything and that would be perfect. He can do nothing and it will be perfect as well. He would only have his imaginary frame of reference in the end of the paths not taken. No regrets is not a destination. It could be there or it might not be. The randomness of life, the futility of it is the very core of it that makes it beautiful. Whatever has made all of this possible - Life - Not just one, but countless organisms he being a part of it all, contributing his infinitesimally small part!
Do or Don't do, it's just not that fatal. You decide the fatality of an action, of its consequence. Worst comes to worst you can always go mad, and be in denial. You can live a life of bliss. Your mind is your friend, your everything. It has been with you all the time. Embrace it, work together. You'll be good enough to conquer the universe and the multiverse with it. Be it just the perception in your tiny head or the "actual one" perceived by this very tiny head. The stakes are not that high if you look at it this way. Just don't keep pushing things to fight for in the very end. You have witnessed people not getting that much time. Keep moving forward, but with an intent. Of exploring or knowing as much as you can in this short, ephemeral life of yours. It has always been magical just the way it was "intended" to be!
