by MattLawliet
in Mystery

Life, written in an only word, the discovery, the most important of all, separated from them by millions of years away. Someone thought about it in the last ten years...but found no answer; but he was actually right after all; none of his partners had

faith in his work, not even himself, but it worked, so well that he couldn't believe it, he had no clue of what was gong on exactly, but he did understood that the work of his life was fructiferous, had something to do for the benefits of not only mankind.

He was pride, centuries of work not in vane.
Absolutely amazed he took his equation and put it in a glass box. And he was pride...

But he was intelligent, as he was afraid; as Someone said "Because other man "-think, act, react like -"me, thats

why I have to be aware of them..."; and that's because they are intelligent enough to react and act in common ways as myself. He even drank coffee in it's own way, he had not equivalent, but because of this situation, other people had some interesting

similitudes with him. No chance of winning, dispear or virtuosity, nothing; not even a life to live, they're empty, residual, a waste of space, even matter and its included particles.

But getting all apart, living with that persona, someone as villaine

as himself came up with the idea of perfection and thought just this:
"As horrifing as I've seen he could be, as wonderful the experiences with him are, and with that I'm not saying it's an interesting man, I think it could be better if he was worst, bad.

Without messing it up I will stand a fact:

His humanity has reached limits where the man couldn't even dream of accomplish.

And with that just said I will finish up saying that even in dreams I never met with a man that great with not

a blind mind, just one which thinks It's just too much to catch."

Twelve months, two days, four hours, eight minutes and three seconds later she laids as a dead body in her bed, grabbing with her last strength the hand of the man she respected the most,

not just as a man, as the persona he was and would be, before, with, and now without her.

Missing souls...

"I could be everything but a scared soul, while the light inside becomes invisible, I get smaller, all the components of my body, myself, all go, one by one,dying. I wish the weak armor of my heart lasts long enough and protects me from myself as long as I need to, as long as they need me..."
- The thaumaturge