Start of a novel.
A novel that I hope will change the past, present, and future.
But.
I want to have nothing to do with it.
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If we humans reflected on existence, then-
Just what did existence reflect on?
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See, I have always been quite the boring person.
As a child, I was a bit different, or rather, peculiar from other children my age.
I was innocent, yes, like any other child, that much was guaranteed.
But there was just something about myself that I couldn't completely wrap myself around.
I didn't notice how odd it was until I actually grew up and reflected on it.
It was then, at that point in my life that I was asked an important question by a friend, while we were taking a walk right beside the river.
A very interesting question I never thought upon until he had actually asked me.
'Do you have a particular goal in my life that you lived for?'
He had asked at the time. To him, it probably sounded like a simple joke meant to be brushed off as a joke, but when I was met with the question, I actually realized I didn't have the motivation to live.
I somehow just managed my daily life.
Somehow.
From what i've seen, even basic people had a desire.
No matter how much people differed, no matter their circumstances and environments, good or bad, ridiculous or not, their affiliations, good or evil, everyone had their own life goal.
That much, they shared in common.
Even if it was ridiculous on a fantasy scale, or if it was believable to the most relatable human.
Whether it was becoming an extravagant global billionaire that threw bills in the sky extravagantly in hubris, an extremely chiseled handsome guy with no synthetic surgery that all types and varieties of women would fawn over like dogs in heat, a muscular influencer that could crush a sedan with his biceps like those bodybuilders on television, or....
For a simplistic person like my friend, at least even get a girlfriend, or if not, get married and live a regular, happy life, getting children and living a day by each day.
That is what most people aspired for. To live in eternal happiness until their feet slipped into eternal sleep after the passing of their long-lived age.
They needed something to desperately hold on. To prove that they were truly alive.
However, you see.
The thing was, I never did have, and I don't think I would ever have a goal in my life.
Not when I was younger, not even now, when I am an adult.
But that isn't to mean that I had no desire to live, No, Not at all. I wasn't to live normally.
But I sometimes ponder to myself:
'Is the reason I don't have a goal because I never actually felt the pain of going hungry, or surviving, in this easy world where everything is given for granted?'
'Would I find my life purpose if I had to try survive in a harsh environment?'
In the end, It was part of the shallowness of being the creature called 'human.'
Why did we need a goal to live, anyways?
People would shamelessly boast about their achievements, while in reality, it was nothing more than an inferiority complex or insecurities.
Is it just an attempt to grasp at life? The fear of slipping from the so called 'self'?
That is just being human as they prefer to say, to give life meaning. To feel that they exist for a purpose.
"Sigh... I'm going off my topic again as usual. My philosophical episodes are coming out, but I can't help it. I wonder what triggered this chain of thoughts right now."
I gently moved my cold fingertips towards my face, slightly touching my cheeks, eyelids, forehead, as if confirming my existence was not a simulation, but something that truly existed.
A small smile broke on my face, as I ran my hand through my hair.
I wouldn't say I was handsome, but my face was simply above average, nothing more, nothing less.
If there is something that stood out though on my face, it would be my pitch-black inky eyes, despite it seeming humanely impossible.
It was simply a darker shade of brown that most people couldn't differentiate between it, and between black.
It's more than just one or two times that I've seen people afraid of me because of my eyes, because of how unusual I was.
In fact, it was the reason for my unemployment in the first place, a totally racial discrimination, choosing me out of other people that tended to 'follow the law' and yet decide to fire me.
All because according to them, I made them uncomfortable. Just by simply staring at people, I became a criminal.
How laughable.
And even so, I couldn't bring myself to hate them. It was in my nature to be unable to hate others, and I still am unable to understand why.
The most I can have is get angry at others.
It's pretty weird, in all honesty.
It's as they say, no one is a virgin; life fucks everyone regardless.
Heh, I wonder if life had a sexuality in the first place to fuck everyone on an equal level?
No matter, that's not our topics. I'm dragging my philosophical pessimism out too much.
Fishing my hands into my grey raincoat, I grabbed a rectangular-shaped box with health warnings on it from my pocket, swiftly opening it with my left hand.
I paused for a moment, my fingers hanging in the air.
"Hm ... which side should I start from this time?"
My listless eye tranquilly observed the only rolled cylinder left in my cigarette box, a tired sigh escaping my lips.
"Well, turns out I don't have that many options, do I?"
My index and middle finger grabbed hold of the cigarette as if I had done the same motion hundreds of times before and placed it between my lips, lighting it.
Or so I tried.
I groaned as my thumb tried to strike the almost empty lighter several times, before it finally gave one last weak flame.
I let out a sigh of relief.
The familiar smoke moving slowly through the dense, cold air like a serpent.
I leaned my hands on the rails, observing the breathtaking view of the city without much reaction.
The cigarette still dangling down my lips, the cheap scent of tobacco filled my nostrils as I gazed up to the cloudy dark skies from the highest point on the skyscraper.
Who cares if its unauthorized?
Ruffling my glossy black hair, my dark eyes closed for a moment in peacefulness at the beautiful weather.
The truth is I had never liked sunny days, always finding solace in more quiet and dark weather like when it was raining, snowing, or .... simply just cloudy like today.
'Hm, there isn't really much to talk about, is there?'
In the sheer peacefulness of the situation, an irritating vibration came from my pocket.
At first, I ignored it, but the more my pocket kept buzzing as if notifications were flooding my screen, I dipped my hands in my pocket without even bothering to look and leaned my chin against the rail.
Hm....
With a click to the right side of my phone, my phone's screen flashed brightly.
Unlike everyone around me who had an image of family or that of an idol/internet meme0, when I decided to choose a background for my phone I couldn't decide on anything as my mind was completely blank, and so I decided to just get a wallpaper of rain raining on a green, lonely hill for my home screen and a Backrooms wallpaper for my lockscreen.
Ah, so lovely.
Inputting my twelve-digit password that was a mix of letters, symbols, and numbers, I quickly arrived at the homepage of the game, as I checked the notifications I had received.
Oh... I completely forgot today's mission.
Taking my cigarette that had shrunken considerably off my lips, the white-ash glowing orange embers flying in the sky, I double-clicked my glowing phone screen and waited for a few seconds before clicking again, more persistently this time.
My phone was no doubt quite an old phone that I had purchased off the marketplace from an old man who had scammed me online; I had just turned twenty-two, and I had no one to celebrate my birthday with me.
I was unemployed, so I couldn't even purchase something expensive for the occasion.
A few seconds passed and my phone was still not responding, frozen as if it had somehow ended up in the ice age.
"Huh, I wonder how long it'll take you to kick the bucket," I casually cursed in visible impatience.
Shaking my phone a few times seemed to have done the job since my phone started loading my daily mission of a game I had found by chance on the recommendation of a friend.
My eyes slightly lighting up in slight excitement, I observed the black, familiar loading screen that kept switching colors with a large title plastered on the screen.
[Crystalline Meadows: IX]