About

In the year 512 AD, when I was a boy soldier, the memory of his firm embrace remains etched in my mind. He was a magnificent presence, a human wonder as tall and elegant as if he could swallow the sky. I remember clearly how his body did not waver for a single moment when he held me, taking the blow meant for me. When I once tasted a single drop of his blood, I gained eternal life. His massive existence was so solid it seemed nothing could shake him. Yet, he who was my noble angel died in a most absurdly simple way. ...215 years have passed since his death. I stood by his tombstone for a long time. Seeing him, who was firmer than anyone, buried like a mere human. As if the past time had flowed like a lie, it felt as though half of my heart had been hollowly ripped out. I wondered if he might somehow be resurrected. I lived like a madman, picturing him in my heart. I fought many battles, and under the influence of his blood, my appearance remained unchanged. I knelt and prayed beneath the grave where he was buried every single time. As if rebuking my vain wishes or delusions, he truly gave no answer, not even a single syllable of his voice. I trained successors, achieved goals of building a world and accomplishments, and he... He still did not appear. He remained helplessly trapped beneath the tombstone. His death was long. Why did I think he wasn't human? Because he wasn't? No, because he was? Because he had no choice but to be human? Yet, he was clearly not human. He was surely a mysterious being who possessed miraculous powers and caused wonders. How could my eyes lie to me? When my perception grew lax and I no longer had the strength to call for him, I decided to end this abnormal 500-year life that had transcended humanity. Only when I finally met my death was he reborn. What a ridiculous tragedy this is. I was his death, and at the same time, his birth. The 500-year tragedy has begun to roll once more.