As the wind wove through the trees in solemn harmony, the clouds drifted toward the farlands—beyond sight, beyond knowing, too hyperborean for even the minds of creatures to fathom.
There lies a land untouched by the grim of undoing, under the hegemony of serenity—too unfathomable for the Libertians to know a lugubrious destruction. For centuries, or at least eons, the Libertians shaped their civilization to the peak of wit. With the incantation fashioned by The One True God, Vita, they wished to become the most luxurious offering for the goddess.
Furthermore, there is a behemoth that became the central life and the most valuable thing—the seed of it was carried by Goddess Vita a long time ago, too arcane for the Libertian historians to fathom. That celestial light, sparked by the tree, illuminates every path for the Libertians, opening all effulgent doors for the Lands of Liberty.
Before the aphanasis of the goddess, Divine Mercy will soon fall entirely. The apprehension flows in the veins of the Libertians; their faith is slowly dispersing, like mist after rain. A horrendous destiny wreathes around their very souls. Abandoned by their god—each tear falls from their weak eyes. Their bodies weaken along with their faith, yet others still stand, awaiting the return of the goddess.
"Thief! Get him!" shouted the security guards, each step feeling like an attempt to kill the thief. Their sweat poured like a waterfall, soaking their apparel.
"You can't arrest me! None of you!" the thief shouted bravely while running through the crowded bazaar.
As the chase for the thief dragged on, the security guards released an earsplitting sound to threaten him—yet they failed.
Before a damned destiny could embrace the thief, he found himself turning the wrong way—a dead end.
Two security guards slowly approached him as fear ignited in his body, spreading to his feet.
"Ha! We finally got you, kid!" A smile crept across their faces, like a cursed demon's.
"Don't get any closer! Or I-I..." A great, unexplainable horror was etched on his face, sweat of fear slowly falling, his body trembling along with his tears.
Within seconds...
BLAGH!!
THUD!!
He was beaten, his body weak after being punched by the security guards. His consciousness slowly faded as he closed his eyes.
As the chariot of the sun had driven away and night had ruled over the land...
"Huh?... W-where am i?... I think... i was beaten," he muttered as he finally woke up and recovered. His frail body trembled after the intense blows, and as he realized it was already night, he tried to get up. With the last of his strength, he struggled to walk home, his body shaking.
As he opened the door of his filthy and disarrayed house, his younger siblings shouted his name and embraced him.
"Hylena! You finally came home!" said Hylena's two younger siblings, their eyes filled with hope despite their utter hunger.
"Ah... Sophia and Charles... I am sorry, but Hylena has failed to bring you two food," Hylena said, holding back tears as he gently stroked their hair.
"Oh... But don't worry! We will hold our hunger!" Charles said, though for a second, a look of disappointment crossed his face.
"You two are strong kids..." Hylena said, his eyes too weak to hold back his tears—some fell. He gently stroked their hair once more.
"But I promise, I will bring you food tomorrow..." He smiled at Sophia and Charles, even as tears fell down his cheeks.
"Now, go to your beds. I promise tomorrow will be a victory for us again..." Hylena reassured his younger siblings, despite his body being black-and-blue.
Charles and Sophia then went to bed, holding their hunger throughout the night. Is this what Divine Mercy gives? Not serenity, but rather a gruesome destiny wreathed in the guise of peace.
Hylena then lay on his bed, making a promise deep within his heart—one that reached beyond the abyss. As his consciousness slowly faded, lulled by the song of the birds in the night, he vowed to bring food for his younger siblings tomorrow... even if it meant gambling with the angel of death.