a

>Blood techniques, as their category increases, usually have engravings of annulment or protection, courtesy of the ancient Earth Gods who generated the various currents. The teeth thrown by the Mayor were not destroyed, they simply separated delicately, forming a cloud of static dust. An effect of your cut that maintains the vital functions and mastery of every thin blood fiber the agent used to repel. You might think you can reconstruct part of the Mayor's structure, although you've already said several times that you saw it as impossible due to the great deformation you managed to inflict on her; this is a rather simple mind game. However, what the intruder is saying now doesn't seem like a partial lie or some hidden information at all. He carelessly reveals a dynamic he has with this Mrs. Neverhayworth the Second. It would seem he's just fooling around, but upon focusing, you can conclude that he is indeed crazy or an idiot. After returning his arms from the ridiculous pose, the blond with blood technique warns.
(Tom) Hahaha, well, it's not the first time we've done this. The Mayor already knows very well all the charm and charisma an agent can exude, only visible to a damsel in distress. But... it's more important to tell you to stop! It's wrong to treat two young ladies that way. We've put one of yours on trial for much less.
>Despite everything, what he says is true. A couple of times on television, demons have appeared in the Supreme Court of the United States, being tried for minor offenses. The time Depravity appeared in said Court did not reflect well on the demons. The close breath has now become difficult to ignore; the Mayor's sword, if it had any expression, could only be described as terrified, while Nethrathis has, for a moment now, begun to act suspiciously, almost hyperventilating. It's possible she's suffering internal rejection from the mixture of so many brains together, as the vapor coming from her open mouth specifically burns thousands of neurons. The league agent then specifies in a flippant manner, as if trying to continue a conversation that has already ended. Finally, the spider homunculus lost patience, causing the upper floor's covering to fall where he is, and the ceiling revealed the maw of a creature with 46 rows of teeth.
(Tom) Although, it was actually "them." It's not like I'm a trained government agent...
(Nethrathis) S-shut up!! You idiot!!! You're definitely overdoing it! I could already feel all that desperation.
(Tom) Huh?
(...)
https://youtu.be/_93PWvC2_vU?si=GULCrkwXePbSDd-x▾>Made of a material of muscle, bone, and cartilage that were carefully interleaved to provide maximum resistance, the cables holding the Mayor's resting/torture platform have fallen. The hard material of the floor corresponds to solidified remains of various creatures, there is no doubt that dead humans or aliens serve as a base for their feet. Combining corpses, if done correctly, can provide a material effect of resistant or living characteristics out of sight. That a face you are stepping on changes shape into that of a monster when you look at it again is a characteristic that Neth also seems to possess. Going down the walls and using the detachable surfaces of them, the spider stays out of the way of Thomas's attack. His approach was surprising, but his next attack should have been combined with it. The spinning fist entered the interior of your residual figure's belly. Instantly the agent realized he had failed. A seal 25 meters in diameter appeared as soon as the straight movement of his fist ended and it returned to speed 0 to come back. It lasted only an instant and like a virtual projection of his blood, he used small drops that constantly reproduced to form the mystical symbol. You have no idea what would have happened if you had hit it, but he lost his chance.
(Thomas) Thousand-Year Blood Impact Battalion-
>Hundreds of solidified faces break and combine with each other in the air, in a solid mixture that should be the application of some mystical chemical formula of Neth. As the platform breaks, due to the pneumatic pressure from inside the building, the exterior material of the building begins to crack. Neth hid many other secrets, because you can see certain bricks detaching from the Hellgram building, a construction that should already have several decades of infernal remodeling. As the exterior faces of the blocks are removed, the red, pulsating flesh of cubic creatures is revealed. They don't seem to possess any kind of consciousness, however, that's precisely why their color stands out. It's a type of flesh you knew very closely 3 years ago, because it came from you. After you revealed the newborn blocks, by the movement made against Thomas, Nethrathis was left without a wall to cling to with her many legs or arms. On the ground, each robust reptilian monster was hit by some of the hundreds of bone fragments that fell with force. Disfigured by the cut of the resistant structure, even though their heads were split in half, they continued to open their jaws to try to capture some of the flesh of whatever it was. Eventually all these creatures would be crushed by the weight of the platform and the upper floors. Especially when on the upper floor a massive life form with a degree of intelligence that Nethrathis had just activated was revealed. By taking both individuals by the head, with Thomas at your disposal since he failed and Nethrathis just a target you must reach in the air, it was easy to think that such a being in the heights would not act, no matter how great its presence now. However, before grabbing Nethrathis, she screamed his name.
(Thomas) ...
(Neth) Riddle of persistence, Prerlendobrogriall, appear!
>The environment changed, it was the interior of a stomach, apparently, both at the entrance and exit of it, a flame was visible burning. The presence of acid as well as gases will not provide you with a particularly breathable environment. Since the riddle appeared superimposed against you in free fall, you all rose to the stomach ceiling of the creature. But, no matter how much the riddle was copied and pasted into space, it was not strong enough to contain the momentum. At 0.0001 seconds, a hole formed inside Prerlendobrogriall and inside the Hellgram Building.

>>10310
>In the following seconds you could visualize the effects of this great displacement, with a large cloud of dust and debris advancing over the skies of Nod Isselsarexuglactrella. The spider homunculus was crushed against the surface they impacted, so that the brains that make up its body were scattered tens of meters around, with damage that was barely cushioned by its contract with the enigma, possibly now dead. Its entrails rained down like a serpentine shower on the hole made in the construction. The upper half of the Hellgram building seemed about to fall, but it stopped, creating a Tetris piece held by points of invisible stress in the air. In front of you, the protruding rib cage and organs are observed in a single color, red. The old man took a few seconds too long to return his body to its normal state. Preventing you from observing the complete process of his regeneration and rearrangement, red fibers of blood tissue covered everything about him except his head. It is that same head that bobs up and down, perhaps losing or regaining strength. He could barely visualize the mirage, but to your questions, Thomas smiled bitterly.
(Thomas) What do you think? I have no one. It's just been me, and only me for hundreds of years, learning the same lesson.
(Neth) My… ADORATION…
>The survivors from the surrounding area, both humans and beings from the Beyond, had to deal with more than just the structural destruction of the buildings following Hellgram; they were forced to flee from a series of slimy and scorched creatures that entered their bodies, destroyed their vital organs, and emerged moist and with less damage to gather at a point near where you are. Thus, slowly ending the nearby screams, Nethrathis was able to reunite about 40% or 50% by reassembling her brain mass through sutures. Although, the first words she addressed to you were in a semi-monstrous state, spilling her burnt brains from the sides. Neth took the time of your conversation with Thomas to reunite. She watched with a gaze that was a smile, but as soon as you revealed your nature outside of Despair, her expression became disturbed.
(Nethrathis) No… No, it can’t be. NO! I REFUSE! It’s false! Despair lives only for despair. My adoration… Despair would never establish a non-chaotic bond!!
>Slowly and after repeatedly denying it, Nethrathis entered a state she did not desire, a despair she did not accept at all. Plainly put, in the minds of homunculi, those who are heavily modified, there is no indication that they will continue with human behaviors, desires, or dreams. Even though she was created by accident, Neth is the type of homunculus who fervently obeys a master, in her view an idol, and that was you. She must complete her reconstruction while experiencing psychological breakdowns that manifest as her disassembling and reassembling herself. Back there, the reason Hellgram Building hadn't fallen was because a group of sorcerers was holding back the destruction, at least in that small area. They probably arrived with Thomas, even though the latter always seemed to be alone. Uttering the name of a transfigured Mayor was enough for the invisible points of effort to vanish. As the group of sorcerers was crushed by the upper part of the structure and a new cloud of dust formed, you activated a contract that should have taken 0 and 0 seconds of negotiation and acceptance. After all, you had Alice entirely at your disposal, in body. But as you were preparing to create a new tool from her essence, a black corded landline telephone appeared right beside your head. A fake voice answered the immediate call.
(Gigi Devitt Derrick Dempsey) Gigi Devitt Derrick Dempsey speaking, you have attempted to establish a contract with the charming and superhuman fashionista Alice Neverhayworth the Second. However, our system has detected that you do not possess any purchase order for Alice Neverhayworth the Second's products. I will now show you the catalog for the "Mist Never Forgets Me" line, specializing in human beauty and more.
"Bloody Combat Technique. Infusion School, Internal Blood Delay"
(Thomas) Form 432, Schumannea Resonance Yuga under Lunar Bleeding.
>Her products always exaggerated the themes of shadows and colors, ending up making people look like clowns or prostitutes. It wasn't particularly popular with anyone, but apparently the Mayor's fashion line distributed other services to more competent beauty companies, which is why it remained on the market. Her linking her contracts to a purchase condition delayed you. The woman on the phone herself tried to get your attention by talking about a particular catalog. The call was taken advantage of by the old man with the blood technique. After the loud click on his back alerted you to a new use of his technique. The sound of screams and collapses ceased, creating a silence that was broken seconds later by the thunderous sound of clouds and mist shifting, revealing a night sky. The dust cloud from the last impact on Hellgram did not spread further, and every piece of debris flying in the air also stopped unnaturally. The demonic mirage reappeared, but it was manipulated on the horizon, under red and blue colors, in a geometric pattern that changed at high and low speeds. Behind Thomas, the trail of destruction of the buildings also took on another color, but it especially showed red matter rapidly moving to construct a structure

>>10311
>The mist that had previously dispersed rearranged itself into dozens of crosses pointing towards the moon. A large, blood-red hand emerged from the broken ground and devastation to align your view of it against the satellite. After the middle finger minimally interacted with the white image of the celestial body, the entire sky turned crimson. In Nod Issel-Sarexuglactrella, a high-power blood technique has been activated, though you are unaware of its immediate effects. The man remains standing, and at his location, the new click prepares you for the repetition of a skill.
"Form 55, Pointed Reflux of Fine Extremities"
>It was the same form the blond boy had used before, with bloodlines emerging from his back. But, with the presence of red tones in the sky, the technique underwent a severe change. Hundreds of seemingly infinite bloodlines with sub-millimetric radii replaced all matter upon which they were invoked with their own bloody inclination. The air, your avatar, Neth, hundreds of debris, hundreds of cubic meters of soil, earth, and underground structures, beings from the Beyond, humans, and surviving sorcerers, all were "pierced" at various points with fine blood extremities that appeared in Nod Issel-Sarexuglactrella's illusory space. They would have also replaced the crust and mantle as the projection of the Second Collapse, but Nod's barrier stopped such an invocation. Humans would not survive being pierced by hundreds of small holes, but Neth's homunculus and its self-repairing biology of empty spaces, just like with teeth, attempted to assemble each punctual cut on its brains. The result was a Neth screaming in pain from the blessed marks on every fiber of old Thomas's attack. Neth would continue its suffering until it suddenly sent a command to the building.
(Nethrathis) AAARHG! NO! Ple- Hellgram Program! GestATION-
(Thomas) I know how much you hate this kind of thing, Tom. But in this cursed city, the value of lives always fluctuates to zero at some point. Therefore, digest the next change quickly if you don't want to die.
>It seems the agent is about to alternate. Just as he changed from young to old before, this one is talking to another "Thomas." This while keeping the bloodlines sliding through the inside of all things. Thomas observes the destruction his area attack caused on this great disaster that had not consolidated until he activated form 432. As Thomas's attack lost power, Neth communicated directly with his creation, still feeling the ravages of the blood technique on his impure homunculus body. From the top of the building, a gelatinous, fleshy mass of soft colors, whites, and skins began to float, rearranging itself into a specific structure. All the tortured facade humans and also the corpse of the gigantic enigma combined at the top of the destroyed building to generate a beyond-altar. The matter that slid in that environment seemed to be liquid, as all the biological structures being formed were in constant change. Thomas quickly modified the angle of a group of bloodlines, and the dozens of fibers slid towards the top of the building, generating laser-like cuts. But, when they reached the center of the "gestation," all those attack lines broke and fell from the sky transformed into worms. The cocoon opened, and from it emerged an abstract demigod. Hundreds of giant hands and fingers adored the same levitating fish-shaped entity. Nethrathis gave precise orders, which could only be described as spoken with rage.
(Nethrathis) Finish the IMPOSTER! Eliminate her! ERASE HER, CONSTRUCT.

>>10312
>Bloodlines destroyed the underground folding mechanism for roads and streets. As Thomas launched his attack, it had been elevated by buildings emerging from nowhere, which were immediately severed by their own motion. The blood flow was stable, though seemingly infinite, yet had a definite end as long as Thomas could slide along his own millimeter-thin lances, without reverting to alter his appearance due to prior damage. An adverse fact for you regarding blood techniques is their wide variety of uses. Some originate in the chest and heart, while others are controlled from the user's brain. With the impact that destroyed the Hellgram building, it became clear that the source of his technique was neither in his heart nor his ribcage. Although the damage should have equally affected his body, the change in Tom occurred when he was cut in the chest. It wasn't within your concern or expectation—waiting for an old, silent man to transform into a young, inexperienced fighter unfamiliar with techniques and combat. Instead, the homunculus displayed far more interesting reactions. The majestic being that awakened from the massacre they left behind was threatened by the continuous assault of Form 55, yet demonstrated a defense of negation or transmutation. In a sense, it slightly resembles Grotesque, whose purity contrasts his horrifying abilities to transform the surrounding environment into living matter. The anger Neth displayed was absolute for an instant, but her cerebral instability caused her to deny it again, while another part of her still bet on negotiation based on your statements and her feelings. She was a complete mess—like any homunculus formed from dozens of other parts, she would eventually lose herself and her unity. She showed it by splitting her face into three strong emotions: crying, laughing, and expressing rage and anger with equal intensity. (...)
(Tom) ...No... No, it can't be...
(Nethrathis) D-D-D-Des... WHRAHG
>Next to the now young agent, a creature of formerly human appearance disentangled itself, vomited three or four brains, and began to dissolve while resenting the damage inflicted by the divine lines of blood. Nethrathis split apart into numerous brain strands that soaked into the ground, reorganizing into basic organs or simply accepting their destruction and dying upon the blood. The destroyed body of the devoted girl was the first of many terrible things Tom had to witness upon returning. He took an uneven breath, his lips trembling as more air and dust entered through his nose. His eyes reddened from the lingering radioactive environment, not before secreting tears that remained static upon his eyelids. The giant red hand made of blood, debris, and corpses barely touched the projected relief of the moon; after blinking in rhythm with the agent's heartbeat, it began caressing the celestial body, starting with the tip of its middle finger. Due to the unfolding of the streets, this structure remained several blocks away. The destruction was discontinuous, with empty patches of city marking the initial massive attack, while the unfolded zones showed enormous gashes and collapses that echoed back the screams and desperation of a mass of people and creatures. Those buildings that didn't collapse instead transformed into giant metallic structures that liquefied and bled out every physical being trapped inside. In this way, each atomic bomb had to generate an improvised system redirecting masses of clotted flesh and blood—hundreds of square meters of liquidated dead creatures sliding across the bomb surfaces. Sometimes, due to standard protection contracts maintained between various organisms and individuals, the magenta mass allowed floating heads and spines to remain, meant to function as "insurance" for reconstruction or accidents. The mere presence of the bombs generated these unpleasant streams. Creatures that remained near the formation's epicenter could observe a translinear construct floating in peace, emitting pulses of reformation that reshaped the earth into biological foam, turned the surrounding air into solid blocks of carbon, and swapped the positions of certain objects with its gaze. Contrary to Neth's orders, its creation simply existed, demonstrating abstract powers.
(Tom) No, damn it! It wasn't supposed to be like this!! Why?!! Old man!!
>The blood that had dripped merely from looking returned painfully into his eyes. Tom collapsed to his knees and thrust his hands into the ground, pounding his fists into the dirt. He groaned, still displaying extreme emotional distress, calling out to his other self who had acted recklessly before you. From the start, this brilliant agent saw himself as the kind of human who wouldn't accept mass destruction, all while keeping a smile.
(Tom) All those humans in Hellgram were going to die anyway when everything ends, that's why... that's why I was resigned to act in the only way I could face despair. I know you only trust yourself, us. But the mayor was different—she had a responsibility! She wouldn't hand over millions of lives to a demon, even after being absorbed. Why...? Why does no one draw a line? Between those who can die, or those who want to die... Why do I have to drag you out dry and broken, reflecting so much "ferocity"? I'm not a murderer.
>Even old Thomas could be slightly sympathetic to your ideas, sacrificing a large portion of the now-pockmarked terrain in an attempt to stop your contract. However, the agent standing before you has a less cold approach. It's this sense of courage applied to people in his heart that causes him to crack, his voice fading beneath a massive warning imprinted by forces above his head. The atomic alert.
(Tom) There's some logic to all this damage...
>(...) A few minutes ago, Gigi interrupted every sales process with declarations, proposals, waiting times, and background music tailored only for a fake saleswoman. The company, whose name no one remembers anymore, didn't depend entirely on any other, while the organizations it sold to didn't have it as their primary supplier. Protection pacts were easily bypassed by unraveling. Alice's spirit was guarded by three elements: a modified body whose artificial mass disintegrated into the air, a beauty mark that simply vanished from the competition, and a mutant rat feeding on trash in the sewers. After cutting her pet in half, you gained access to every action the mayor could take within the city. The ordinary energy flow inclined your choice toward beautifying the city in ways that generated "pleasant" structures for humans. After overcoming the default configuration of their contracts—simply by rejecting that branch of possibilities—you stipulated. In the past, in the days following the first Collapse, nuclear weapons had been brought in and activated with the goal of neutralizing the portal. Your offer from years ago would bring back the proposal from four years prior. The method used to validate the contract was an iterative simulated vote. In 5 and 10^55,432,877 seconds, the contract with Nod was completed—five seconds for you, and that 55-million-digit number of seconds for the simulation. Basically, the question was generated: Do you wish to obtain 1000 years of life in exchange for placing several nuclear warheads in your neighborhood?

>Each entity in Nod should respond yes or no, so that the 16 million inhabitants answered individually with a positive (given the majority beyond-line). That question had to be answered also taking into account random pairs of people, situations of Desperation and Thomas, Desperation and Depravity, Desperation and Neth, until completing another 16 million surveys. Groups of 2, 3, 4 up to 16 million that generated 16,000,000! possibilities. The universe computed the simulations, delegating part of the calculations to a human mind located in Montenegro. The human Ali Muhassabid Popó exploded one second before receiving his portion of work, although the request was completed anyway. After mentioning the Spiritual League, an information injection occurred.
"Desist. The most capable agent is already on site. Besides—" "!!Take it!! It's done, you can activate them now"
>It was a delicate female voice; she explained to you that they had already sent the best man to the location. Yet, in your eyes, less than 100 meters away, that person was lamenting on the ground in despair after "waking up" within themselves. It didn't sound convincing; the woman was about to negotiate another solution or warn you of something, however, a mechanical male voice snatched away with a loud smash sound effect of shattering porcelain, springs, and a Wilhelm scream. That cut off the "communication," which should have been a recorded message, and authorized you to initiate the bombs. A being from Beyond, or whatever that voice was, was interfering with the Spiritual League's operations. It meant no one else would come to stand before you, resulting in a slow and tedious countdown. Even if you accelerated or unraveled the sequence of numbers, there was no external reaction to stop you from carrying out the great terror attack. It fixed its target on all of Nod; the levers inside the bombs resonated twice, stimulating the first and second reactions within the bombs. Naturally, although the explosion causes a brief delirium in your head for a few seconds, demons can survive the nuclear energy discharge. The same applies to some Beyond-line entities, mainly demigods, perhaps some Enigmas tied to deep concepts or related to atoms themselves. However, everything else would be erased, transformed into plasma then contained by Nod's barrier. So it happened. Hundreds of blinding flashes brighter than the sun occurred simultaneously as temperatures rose to millions of degrees Celsius. Within the first microsecond, hundreds of fireballs formed, incinerating everything in their path. The expansion of destruction generated a shockwave that rebounded a thousand and one times within the barrier. For minutes, continuous thermal radiation set fire to everything flammable, and within Nod a field of mushroom-shaped columns made of rubble and smoke formed. You still couldn't see the damage because immediately dozens of unexplained secondary nuclear explosions occurred. Dozens of kilometers-long tentacles appeared and Nod began slowly reconstructing itself. The image zoomed out while blurring, and the frames on the television flickered. What should have been your vision turned into a kind of cheap DVD playback showing a "2X" logo and a backward arrow to rewind again to the moment of the explosions. You find yourself inside one of the offices of the Spiritual League, the lights are off leaving only the shadows cast by popcorn as the sole illumination from the "movie." A childish voice spoke from the side, the one holding the TV remote.
(-) It was incredible, wasn't it?!. Everyone flew into a million pieces and were immediately reassembled. However! That radioactive enigma fell asleep and everyone suffered a lot for a good while. Did you like the outcome? Do you regret it? Would you do it again? Just for that movie.
>It ruined what would happen after the city's reconstruction. Apparently the blonde girl dressed as a clown has already seen the footage, so she has no problem explaining. She floats slightly in the air, she and her hair. She is a few years older than Bagoriceny, whom you completely forgot about and who should have died in the explosion if it hadn't suddenly been a false image. The orb-like creature brought her face closer invasively while asking strange questions. As soon as you realized she was a space human, the type that runs simulations, she shook her index finger while returning to her position on the sofa. At some point the lights turned on.
(-) Sorry, miss, I can't tell you my name. I'll die soon, to protect them all! All the helpless girls in this world! And the big ones among the big ones. But as an Orboide, you thrilled me too much! (...) You're tough. Alright! You can call me Yeiyei. I was told to stall, to die here if possible, to let each of your attacks land, and yours miss.
>After demonstrating a powerful energy reaction, clenching her fists to assert herself, the orboide betrayed her own words. You did nothing, yet she couldn't resist revealing her identity, along with her cheerful nature. Her mission loosely aligned with the actions you were performing while waiting for the explosion. An orboide illusion, even of low quality, can manipulate the perception of time for every being involved. It's possible you were even stuck on the count of second 54. Defeating an orboide is only possible by weakening her in her own game, bringing another orboide to cancel her magic, or eliminating the vital historical figure that gives her life. As you slowly became aware of the situation you were in, Yeiyei acted. She removed the seats and lowered the floor to place you on your feet; she turned the TV into camera lenses and every nearby technological object into recording and live broadcasting gear. The walls collapsed sideways, ignoring the prosthetic light effects through the door. Everything indicated they were about to become part of a television show, with the lunar orboide fairy as host.
(Yeiyei) No way…! Was it a set the whole time? Alright, it's time to cook! Desperation, Constructo de transformación, and Thomas Tremblay—three contestants, only one golden apron.
(Thomas) Hahaha, good luck, friend. I didn't think you'd be here. When was the last time we saw each other? Colorado in '93? I'm not sure I can win, but him... He's got some practice. Be very careful.
>The Libra agent reappeared in his bright, cheerful demeanor, giving you a pat on the back before pointing toward Neth's Construct, who had also crossed the guest threshold. The audience was a mix of humans and beings from Beyond, cameras manned by qualified personnel—likely representatives of other League agents. The atmosphere matched a competitive cooking show, featuring a resource and ingredient gathering zone, a preparation area equipped with kitchens and tools, and finally, a tasting zone. Suddenly, everyone was at their stations, and after the technical announcement, Yeiyei floated in with a virtual list of ingredients for the cooking challenge. It was a free-form preparation.
(Yeiyei) The ingredients for this program are: Human viscera and blood, uugh. Sugar of hope and salt of despair. (...) Oh, we've got two red-alert ingredients. Uranium-235 and lithium-6 deuteride mix. What does the on-screen notice say? It'll be a mandatory ingredient!
>A massive panel with flashing lights burst through the ceiling, displaying an atomic symbol signaling a challenge or dare for the program. The two mandatory resources to be used in the dish preparation were projected. Before you could react, you already saw Tremblay baking lithium into small cookie dough shaped like bunnies. In your prep area, a spotlight keeps constantly blinding your vision, creating intermittent, disorienting multicolored flashes. The cooking station closest to yours belongs to the one-eyed, shapeshifting Construct, currently stir-frying uranium in a pan with a high concentration of scalding hot oil. During one of its quick motions, some of that oil splashes onto your arm. A red accident frame and replay appear on the cameras broadcasting the live feed of events. It's strangely painful—probably because your humanoid form is granting you basic humanoid resistance. Though it's uncertain whether damage sustained inside this orb-like area is being projected outside, it's still concerning. But even more worrying is that you haven't finished gathering your raw materials for cooking, while the judges are already being presented to taste the dishes in a decisive verdict.
(Construct) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! Are you hurt? I'll fix it.
(Yeiyei) Goodness, looks like we've got a kitchen accident. Can't you save that for later, guys?! Let me ask the audience—do you want to see a painful emergency, or would you prefer to meet the three special judges we've invited exclusively for this program!

My pasts an future selves
to what extent can I accept them?
Gradually, my sense of living
grew blurred an weak...

Your past an future selves
to what extent can I tolerate them?
Someday, my contaminated fickleness
will fall heavily upon you...

It's inexcusable.
I heard those words in the past,
and no matter how many times I hear them
they will always lead to the same answer.

Enough! Stop lying to me,
and tell me the truth.
The nameless winds will sing,
If you'll let me love you, completely.

"If you wish to change yourself,
then separation is inevitable".
Is that, the weight of our respective lives,
what ties us together?

Have I really managed to come this far,
Being unloved by everyone?
After unintentionally reminiscing,
My outlook became so very clear.

I got rid of everything I don't need... long ago.

Enough! This tenderness, this hatred,
and this unhealing pain in my chest.
They'll all be carried away by the nameless winds
if you can forgive me, completely.

How long, how long will this continue...?
I want to accept myself soon...

Someone's body that fluttered down
will disappear tomorrow morning.

"Because I will always be by your side"
I will never forget those words.

Even knowing these are flowers that never wither,
like butterflies, we simply wander lost.

If our fragile hearts sway unstably in mid-air,
we end up hurting each other
while trying to protect one another.

Softly...
with just a gentle touch, there is no going back.
Don't let go of me tonight.
It's alright if I don't go home... until morning...

My wings torn to countless pieces
will disappear tomorrow morning.

Even knowing these are flowers that never wither,
we keep going around in circles, despite knowing we love each other.

If our fragile hearts sway unstably in mid-air,
we end up hurting each other
while trying to protect one another.

Softly...
with just a gentle touch, there is no going back.
Don't let go of me tonight.
It's alright if I don't go home... until morning...

"—It's all your fault."
Whispered at my ear as if you're whispering a curse to me

It's alright if you don't walk me home, 'cause, you know?
That way we don't need to make promises for next time,
right?

That's right.

If our fragile hearts sway unstably in mid-air,
we end up hurting each other
while trying to protect one another.

Softly...
with just a gentle touch, there is no going back.
Don't let go of me tonight.
It's alright if you don't go home, we'll welcome the morning together.