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The Celestial Egg - Bluesteel [1 of 2] [Ep4]

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5/16/2014 9:06:13 PM
Posted: 4 years ago
Previous episode:

A glimmer of moonlight danced around the rain-drenched streets passing through a puddle of darkness as thickened fog stretched around the rooftops of Tokyo, attempting to smudge the black windows scattered throughout the skyscrapers.

On one of the soaked benches, water droplets chased after each other escaping the night's boredom while others stood still like waiting passengers. The wind flipped the pages of the morning's newspaper halting at the picture of a young American man, which was now completely smudged, although the title "Father leaves company to son" still stood out beneath the hammering rain.

His memories floated like hot steam in the bathtub and returned back to his eyes dampened with sorrow. He remembered the time he scratched his father's cheeks as an infant and saw his father smiling and running his fingers gently across the frail scars. There were moments where he hugged his dad and forgot the world around him, and those moments came back to him probably more delightful than they were, uninterrupted by the rushing water that fell upon his head trying to baptize him from the troubles that awaited him tomorrow.

Bluesteel no longer felt like himself, especially in those sorrowful days which made him feel like cracked tungsten inflamed from within but unable to spread any warmth. His father's "good morning" was somewhere in the corner of the house, stacked beneath the mess on the wooden desk or in one of the pockets of the light gray suit hanging in the closet.

His orphanage days were like a prison sentence the judge forgot to mention when he sentenced his father. There he understood his father's love for his mother who died giving birth to him, when his eyes fell in love with that adorable Amy, but then came the families like apple-pickers picking up the autumn faces, and it was soon time for Amy's hazel eyes to drift away in that white Mercedes car.

In one of their few vacations, his farther was too busy over phone-calls that he was left wondering what it would feel like to be a lobster. His father had told him of a friend of his called Thomas Nagel had asked "What it was like to be bat?" and answered that the whole experience cannot be reduced into observations. But it was the particulars of his life that mattered most in his situation now.

Bluesteel brushed his lips against the soap and thought of Amy, imagining them both rubbing their lips against each other, but he tasted nothing but the bitter of his childhood memories.

She was the illicit daughter of a nun and a soldier, according to what her Aunt had told her after she persisted on asking. The nun was a decent and loving woman but the nunnery prohibited her from feeling alive like it prohibits all the other sisters, and so the windows of her room where all blocked except for one tiny opening that stood there as an eyelid to the outside world, making eye-contact with the distant sun, and looking at the tall and handsome figure of a man disrobing behind the rocks. The soldier was eventually aware of those greens eyes that were staring at him from that tiny opening, and when the nun passed him one morning, he approached her and they rushed through each other like two meeting springs. The nun got pregnant and the soldier was shipped away. She waited for him but she couldn't take it anymore, and after a few months of waiting, she delivered her baby in one of the nearby orphanages, and returned to that shore of miseries. She jumped in the sea but the sea pushed her back to the shore. She wept and shouted and then jumped back again. The sea hugged her ferociously between his arms unable to let go until she closed her eyes and finally slept.

It felt like his life was a film-tape that played differently each time he played it but always halted on the same disappointing closure. Bluesteel held the revolver against his chest feeling its coldness and blackness against his heart, while he stood in the bathtub drenched with anxiety and depression. Tears fell down his cheeks but he kept composure in a seemingly stern look that appeared less and less stern the more you looked at it. He lifted the gun to his mouth and placed his fingers around that cold trigger, this time making sure he had enough courage to pull it down with his shivering finger, but he could and couldn't after many moments of indecision until the shot came out.


The tall fortresses of 21012011 stood beside each other like dominoes aligned in circular lines, while heavy lakes of lava crawled like soldiers beneath the ebony bridges that connected the nearby fortresses to one another.

The Emperor's building loomed above all the other towers stretched like a hollow square on a stretch of molten magma, meanwhile gray clouds circled around the mountain covering half of the scattered buildings, blocking the view of the vast ocean of lava that surrounded the mountain from every direction.

The hot temperature outside was unbearable to any living species, but the Emperor of the Universe was enjoying the new cooling system in his office with his daughter, watching the green holographic screen projected from the wall and scratching his gray tentacles and his wrinkled face, while his silver mane stretched down like an extended arm to the carpeted white floor.

His daughter turned around and asked him in a rather abrupt manner, "Why are they saying that the speed of light is increasing?"

The Emperor looked at her surprised, "It's because the aether layer has been damaged with some new experiments."

The daughter took a deep breath, "And why is that?"

The Emperor cleared his throat and answered in a rather hoarse voice, "You see, my dear, in our experiments we have been playing around with the fabric of reality, also known as mental sensations, and so such universal changes within our universe were expected to happen."

"But why? Isn't the speed of light constant?"

The Emperor took a moment of silence and explained, "At some point of history, we thought it was constant, but that was nothing more than a safe assumption at the time."

The daughter looked confused, "But why make such false assumptions?"

"It is because we always seem to be limited in our sample of evidence but need to have a pragmatic way to get over things" the Emperor responded, feeling as if his daughter is not going to stop asking questions.

"But why is that?" asked he daughter.

"This is because the fabrics of reality are too complex for us, and because we use mental sensations to understand mental sensations."

"But why is that?" asked he daughter again.

"This is something we still have not understood" replied the Emperor with mild annoyance.

"But why is that?" asked he daughter again.

"That's just how things are" replied the Emperor with a weary look on his face.

"But why are things what they are?" asked the daughter. "It could be that things are what they are not."

"For now, it is safe to assume that things are what they are" replied the Emperor in an angry tone.

"But why is that?" asked the daughter.

"You and your why questions" retorted the Emperor angrily. "Explanations don't need to have meta-explanations to be good explanations. For a considerable number of years, our ancestors didn't know what Dark Matter was but they used it to explain many scientific matters related to gravitational laws. There is a point in each period of normal science where we hit the bedrock, and it makes no sense for us to go down anymore, but to explore the flatland. Understood?"

"But why..." remarked the daughter. "What you explained to me is itself a meta-explanation for good explanations, when they don't need such meta-explanations to be good."

"GO TO YOUR ROOM, YOU ANNOYING BRAT." bellowed the Emperor, while the butler hurried quickly and carried the daughter away.
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5/16/2014 9:16:30 PM
Posted: 4 years ago
Excellent as usual Niqash. Your writing never ceases to amaze me.
I don't care about whether an ideology is "necessary" or not,
I care about how to solve problems,
which is what everyone else should also care about.

In essence, the world is fucked up and you can either ignore it, become cynical or bitter about it.
Deep down, we're all dumbassses who act like shittheads



P.S. Shipped Sailey before it was cannon bitches.