File 04: Dawn of the Second Day.
Does the planet spin on its own? that would explain a lot, and it must be from right to left, just as the vortex activates, if you dance with it you can contemplate how the elements realign, ungrateful of the past, all of those that once seemed to be set no matter the force against, now quickly move to a new tame, a secret prank to laugh about, who could notice after dark?
If you step, just one, behind, then you can see the white light, a reset of any emotion had, it all comes to an end by the last breath of the day, even with restrain about the turn in self actions, the change must come to finish it all, such a short travel to enjoy, or despise, but enough of that, it will change anyway after dawn.
File 05: Entwined Ice
The great play of domestication and satisfaction had started for a while, in all glamour of hype and rags, it develops until a certain point where the player feels frustrated about own emotions not being presented in the game, stubborn as is, changes the story and takes part in it, the extense of the tear depends on the response of the environment and the delight of the protagonist for the immersion, holding the liquid nectar of life on the hands, pouring through the fingers, the machine wasnt designed to understand, only to provide against the script of idiocy and contempt, yet the theatre always remain, for a play is all to be there.
He hated it, he hated it all along, not even the most lucky and fulfilling created events could change the judgement everpresent, forgetting the chemicals in the air, pretending to ignore the pollution in the water, and running out of teenage tantrums to justify the normality of the acts against the flow.
The machine followed the guidelines anyhow, created bubbles in the depths of the ocean a thousand times, with a dim light and a sound barrier around, it was forbidden to merge with even the most simple spoken curses the common people used to express their pitiful selves, until a point when the language became strange and others couldnt understand.
She hated it, she hated it all along, and with a swift cut, off the links from fairy tales, about youthful ambition lacking of deep sense, for all there was, lust as a drug to embrace, a trance, of the only life to be had.
And the machine became obsolete over the long years, the designs never updated, for the project had nothing to look forward in the eyes of the creator, and me, I, cannot make the decision, basically for the same reason, I am a spirit of the goddess, if I was to descend and be stray, there is no point for me to pretend, but I would be locked in the same way, once the fury becomes stale, theres nothing for the goddess to be awake.