For the first time, Hiro’s eyes bear witness to the beautiful, unmatched details of reality.

  The perfection of a creator stronger than anything else. Before his eyes was a marvelous city that stood under a veil of gray—a metro defined by scaling pillars of gray.

  Yellow lights illuminate everything, allowing the indifferent sky to hold back its emotions. An act of suppression.

  The view was all from the stone bridge that connected the realm of nothingness and the all encompassing structure that stood above all else.

  Hiro’s first thought in this world… deemed it as The Pinnacle of Artistry.

  Every wire, bearing the skin of scaly, slimy skin of a bug, merged at its feet. Ten spires, higher than any virtue within this overbearing city of demons who bore wisdom greater than Hiro.

  “What is this place, Konton?” Hiro asked.

  “My mother’s city.” Konton answered, eyes parallel to Hiro’s. That tone of his. It felt unpleasant. “Kosalahamen.”

  “Your… mother?”

  “Ah yes, a mother.” Konton repeated, stringing a sneer.

  That damn old woman.

  “Do you see it, Hiro?” A question, one that resided in the direction of Konton's gaze.

  Below.

  A torso hanging over the stone ledge.

  There it was again.

  Monsters, everyone was. Human flesh, but the biology didn’t match up to the standards of the newly created one.

  Five-pointed fish that walked on two points, dancing in the night; the inhumane who held four limbs on their sides, bearing teeth that shredded the flesh; the two-faced, horrid and unimaginable, unsure of which direction to walk in.

  Everything horrid… thrown into a crowed megaplex!

  No, no, no.

  Again, for the first time, Hiro was forming a feeling.

  A feeling the voice in his head could only register as… confliction.

  Mayday, mayday, everything was going.

  But what was to fear? After all, by his side was the soul with all the answers.

  “Konton…?”

  “It’s everything, everywhere at once.” Konton claimed, blood pouring down his cheeks as he smiled. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “...I don’t think it is.” Hiro said, “That’s why I'm asking you… what kind of face should I make?”

  “Hm?” Konton tilted his head.

  “This city is too great—I can’t comprehend it all.”

  Conflicting feelings. Unstable emotions.

  “So many lifeforms… and everything works? I don’t get it. How do they all walk? Everyone’s making a different face, or is a different face.”

  A desperate desire to understand.

  “I feel like, I don’t belong.”

  Konton’s gaze turned back to the city, watching a string of flesh made puppets dance in an alley way.

  “My mother… She's the one who built this place. She wants everyone to live happily, even though they're different.” He said, “A mother is someone who gives birth to life, and takes care of that life. That’s why I’m technically not allowed to let you in.”

  Hiro stared into the darkness. The uncertain darkness that seemed to hold the complexity of the interior of this city’s greatest building. “She guides them?”

  “Yes, sorta like a god.” Konton answered, straightening himself, “But, we’re not gonna go there yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m the one who brought you here.”

  Konton’s face was uncomfortably close to Hiro’s now. Such a simplistic smile he strung, and because it was plastered onto a body that had been tortured for years, it only instilled the essence of the unnerving. “Without permission, I might add.”

  “...So, you’re my guide?”

  “Percisely!” Konton said, twirling his fingers around.

  Moving away from Hiro’s face, his gaze fell upon the all encompassing black of the entrance. However, it was obvious he wasn’t moving toward it.

  Step.

  He stopped, looking back at Konton.

  Only five steps in terms of distance, and yet, Hiro saw the soul as something he could reach.

  “Come on, Hiro.”

  A call to his name, filling him with purpose.

  “I’m gonna show you around.”

  Bursting out into the bustling town.

  Every turn was something new. A new creature. A new face. A new contraption.

  But two things remained the same.

  Those strange contraptions. How strange they were. They moved across the road, stopping at a color’s twinkle, and going at a color’s twinkle. Souls stood on the sidewalks, waiting for them to take them to whatever destination they desired.

  The people who controlled those contraptions were always faceless, wearing black attire.

  And the thing that made the sidewalks what they were.

  The street.

  Fwoom!

  Fwoom!

  Eyes darted left and right with each turn.

  The two stopped at a crowd, who were waiting for the red color to change to green.

  Ah, the smell of the air. How unique it was. Is it from me, or everyone else.

  Potent, disgusting.

  And yet, Hiro could see it.

  The moon above, and its peerless light that illuminated souls and buildings alike.

  Its face was the same as his. Calm, without emotion, hanging over to the greatest building of the city.

  “Hey, Konton,”

  “Heh?”

  “What’s that?”

  Konton followed his gaze.

  “It’s the moon.” He answered, “It’s unique to all of us.”

  In his perception, its expression was filled with stitches, and smiling.

  “I can only wonder… what face it’s making for you.”

  In truth, he didn’t, and yet, he said it anyway.

  Green!

  The light turned green, and so, they walked.

  A few blocks away, and Hiro was witnessing the inside of a building for the first time.

  The stone pattern of the walls ended abruptly at the placement of glass, where barely a fraction of the city’s wonder could be viewed.

  Souls walked pass, not giving him or Konton the light of day.

  Circular, white tables were scattered across the floors with square patterns and white black.

  Souls came inside, throwing away their gold to a man in a black robe similar to Hiro’s. In turn, he filled their plates with food, allowing them to sit down and reap the benefits.

  But they weren’t the only ones eating.

  It was no different from the building before them—Hiro could see it.

  Those orbs of gold… were being consumed.

  And of course, it seemed Konton was a participant in this currency of consumption. The line left no room for the two to wait any longer.

  “Welcome to Kalovu!” The man greeted, his long hair flowing as he shook his head. “What can I get you?”

  Konton’s eyes went to the menu. Red stripes in the background of the food.

  “Hm, let's see…” Thumb to chin.

  The options that caught his mind were…

  Burgers, Steak, or Cursed Flesh.

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  “Finger Fries with a side of Cursed Flesh.” Konton said, his thumb pointing back to Hiro. “And the same for him.”

  But no orbs of gold followed. The man in the black robe showed a tint of disdain, but understood. It was the same for the person behind him. Funnily enough, Konton didn’t give a damn.

  Frizzzllleeee….

  In the background, another part of this confusing mess that Hiro accepted. Where the cooking was done. The turbid ingredient of Cursed Flesh, rotten beyond recognition. It was ironically cooked by a Chutulu-like creature with the innocence of a crab.

  “Heh,” Konton crossed his arms, looking over to the ceiling

  .

  “What is this?” Hiro asked.

  “Souls never really get hungry, since we’re technically formless. That’s why we eat anything we can get our hands on.” Following Konton’s explanation was the serving of his dish, steam soaring up into the air. “It’s how our good ole store owners can earn a living. They technically don’t have to work a day in their lives.”

  A thank you, and they’d go over to the table far away from everyone else, the window giving him a view of the city… and the moon, with the same expression!

  Hiro picked at the food for a bit, interested in the sensation it brought upon his nose. And after a little urging from Konton, he fit in once more with the crowd, mindless as he urged the piece of cursed flesh to his mouth.

  Then…

  Chomp!

  Consumption.

  Ah, the taste. A tint of delicacy and uniqueness.

  Then, swallow.

  Afterwards, the desire to indulge even further.

  “It’s good, huh?” Konton leaned back in his chair, smirking. “You know where this comes from?”

  “...The red guy?”

  “Nah, they’re from some sea in another city.” Konton chomped down on a large piece of Cursed Flesh. “A sea that’s entirely black. I went swimming there once, but there was nothing impressive.”

  “So, you kill other lifeforms to eat them?”

  “Yeah, it’s called the “food chain.” It’s some concept in the material world. Basically, if you’re strong, you eat. If you’re weak, you’re food. That’s it.” Konton explained. “You can fight back, but you’ll just be eaten.”

  Hiro remembered…

  “Pain.”

  It made him stop, and stare at the flesh.

  Another connection.

  “Is that what they feel?”

  “You realized what it is, huh?”

  “No, but… I don’t get it. You said at the end of this route is Narvinia. It doesn't matter to me if they feel pain, because look around.”

  Consumers drowning in enjoyment.

  “They can’t feel what we’re feeling.”

  “They’re satisfying all of us. So why don’t they just give up and die?”

  Strangely enough, Konton was frowning.

  Fitting in with the crowd. A weakling’s bout. Years of roaming through this city, and being unsatisfied.

  This pisses me off!

  “Don’t lump us in with everyone else.” Konton corrected, “Souls are included in the food chain, too… except me. Whatever is above, they won’t look at me.”

  “....But, you…. You have a mother.” Hiro argued, “Doesn’t she guide you?”

  “No one can guide something they don’t understand.” Konton looked down, “Didn’t you see the way they looked at me when I didn’t give the boss anything to consume? It wasn’t just me, either, no, it was you.” Pointing a finger, “I’m more of an anomaly than what these people consider a soul. Whether people are truly fond of me or just faking, they’ll never get me.”

  With those words followed shame. A shame stemming from what he was holding in his hands. A blessing - but a curse.

  Looking back, the distance reappeared between Hiro and the others.

  “How can you live with that?”

  “Doesn’t matter to me.” Konton said with a cheeky smile, grabbing and knobbling on a bone. “Shouldn’t matter to you. They’re all idiots.”

  I see.

  Shame was replaced with the light of clarity.

  And amplified by the light of consumption.

  The next stop. A dome, the inside filled with monsters laying their heart bare with their clothing. Rows upon rows of chairs in a circle, and a stadium with black and white patterns, basked in a flurry of lights from above.

  Strange.

  So loud.

  I can still smell food, though.

  Konton and Hiro settled for a seat at the top.

  An immaculate view.

  “So… what’s a show?”

  “A place where people show off their talents. We, the audience, enjoy it. Or—”

  Something slimy from above. Disgusting, but it granted a good fortune. A beast of many teeth dropped something valuable—and it landed right into Konton’s hands.

  “GOLD!” A childish tone!

  “Didn’t you say you don’t need those?”

  “Oh I just like having stuff to eat!” Konton shrugged, consuming it in a heartbeat. His arms extended upward to grab another. “You got an appetite? It came out of someone’s ass so be careful.”

  “What’s an ass?”

  A part of Konton wanted to reply with “My sister” or “My mother”, but something much more hilarious crossed his mind.

  “Eh, I dunno. Why don’t ya find out?”

  “...Okay.”

  Chomp!

  The taste was terrible. The endless desire of consumption made him push through, yet the taste! Oh man, the taste! He was itching to swallow it!

  Gulp!

  It was here that Hiro felt “annoyance” for the first time.

  Konton was laughing like the lazy bastard he was. “I told you to be careful!”

  “Yo… you told me to eat it!” What visceral emotion from Hiro… disrupted by a few coughs of course.

  “So that would make me an ass, right?”

  “I’m not eating you.”

  “Hahahaha!” Hearty laughter, followed by a few pats on the back. “Aye, be proud. You get used to the taste after a while.”

  Konton proved to be right so far, but a future with that seemed incomprehensible.

  But no time for that. The lights shut off, and the chatter came to a slow stop - excluding those who were being shushed.

  “Show’s starting…” Konton whispered.

  It was a play.

  The lights returned, and out of all the actors, only one dazzled the most. Far from the background, with faceless idiots.

  A deceitful woman wearing a dress of dark, sparkly blue - a witch of sorts. Her red lips showed a smile bearing no desire to cling onto righteousness, and those eyes were drowning in selfishness.

  Hiro wondered how someone could look so different and normal simultaneously.

  Strut. Strut. Walking fabulously in those crimson heels, her black braid swinging black and forth.

  “Who is she?” Hiro asked.

  “Oh, yeah, I remember her.” Konton recalled, “She’s from Satavahana. That place is full of famous souls, but… they’re currency is based on something called “paper”.”

  “So they don’t eat it?”

  “Nah, they just buy stuff. That’s why I never bothered going there. Plus, their city’s too metro.”

  Step.

  To the center, finally opening her eyes and heart to the audience. Crows descended down, moving to the rhythm her hand created.

  This was the play of a woman deep in the fever of consumption. Those faceless actors in the background lost their heads, and even coming out of the darkness, the expression of death, often ridden in shock, was merely one of contentment.

  Dance, dance, dancing. The audience was in the palm of her hands, yet she couldn’t feel them. So close, yet so far. Dance, dance, and dancing, until she lost her mind, and soared into the air.

  Rise, rise, and rise, far above everyone else. So lonely at the time, and yet, her smile was still there.

  It still craved more, because the play’s depiction of a kingdom far, far above the heavens, filled with foolish humans, was what her heart desired.

  Fly, fly, and fly. Flying like a crow, sharing their appetite. A human head fell in her hands, and as if she was at a restaurant, the crows formed into a seat for her to sit.

  And indulge.

  Crimson dropped from her mouth with each bite, but she didn’t mind it all. She handled it with utmost care regardless, never allowing a single piece of meat to leave her plate.

  “Bwahahaha! Thank you!” Words filled with a mix of glee and ghast! “Thank you so much… for your riches!”

  Disgusting.

  But both Hiro and Konton were tuned in.

  “...That must be a human.”

  “Yep.” Konton confirmed, “Do they look interesting to you?”

  “No. If they did, then I would be trying to eat you, or myself, or her.” Hiro answered plainly.

  “It’s not about consuming, though. It’s a skill and an art to actually butcher a body. This flesh of ours is so complex, but our souls are eternal. Technically, there’d be no harm in doing this to everyone here.” Konton explained, sighing, “But, for the eighteenth time, my mother is a sensitive moron.”

  Before Hiro could answer, chatter arose to his left side. Eight or nine seats away and a few down, a humanoid creature.

  A man clad in a robe—the torso crimson and the hanging sleeves black. The darkness extended to his long hair and eyes—now fueled by anger. Underneath them, three painted lines. Baggy pants of red, black soles. He was with three others, and they were spouting the same thing.

  “How foolish!” He shouted, “...Selfishness! No! Selfishness! Disgust! The Crimson Society will be outraged!”

  It seemed no one else was paying attention to him. He continued on, on, and on. Religious babble to justify his anger.

  The selfishness of hunger. He spoke of a god who detested it.

  Konton merely sighed, shaking his head.

  “Who’s that?” Hiro asked.

  “...Ichizu.” Konton seemed irritated. “Don’t mind him. He’s from Crimson City… which has like, two or three people. Not an important place.”

  “Is it jealousy?”

  “Probably. His kind is naturally angry.”

  Even with that….

  I can’t focus on the show.

  Everyone else is quiet. Why are they trying to break the peace?

  No, why are they trying to break this feeling?

  The sound of the piano. The wonderful effects as the Witch of a woman glided to the air alongside her crows. So interesting, but the immersion was fleeting.

  But they’re only creating their own peace… right?

  They’re from a different city, so they must’ve come a long way.

  They spoke of their Goddess, who chose to hold in their rage and give birth to lifeforms that could change the world with.

  Myrcella.

  Go somewhere else, then.

  A new feeling.

  The feeling of being disrespected.

  After all, they were the only ones in his world.

  The sighing of Konton—each one intensifying the more they reaped the benefits of being in this barrier.

  These idiots shouldn’t matter.

  But they obviously don’t care about us.

  A bloodied underdog.

  An urge to stand, rising.

  …I guess I should—

  “Huh?!”

  To his right now was empty space. Konton had vanished without words, and in the midst of searching for him, Hiro saw that was directly behind the people who were annoying him.

  “I’ll let you guys easy this time, but—”

  What seemed to be an ordinary shoulder touch was in actuality, an order for death. A dissolving death, where human flesh melted and merged seamlessly into the seat. "—Won't be so kind next time."

  Impossible. Someone had to have seen that. Hiro’s eyes darted left and right in fear, but—

  “Problem solved!”

  —It was as if Konton had never left. Here he was, leaning back and crossing his legs, getting comfortable. Somehow, he’d obtained a bowl of eyes, and was stuffing his face with it. “Alright, let’s get back to it.”

  The strength of his own indifference made him refrain from even asking.

  All he could do… was gaze upon the spectacle, and find peace.

  Afterwards, Konton moved Hiro into a more isolated part of the town. Monsters roamed the streets, but no cars did. A sudden turn to the right, and they were standing before the gloomy stairs that descended into the depths of an unbearable night.

  Down, down, down.

  Step, step, step.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Water.

  Venturing deeper, and deeper. The smell of a rot slowly came into play.

  Hiro couldn't see them, but… in the darkness, where the water ran in other directions.

  Monsters were growling.

  A light as they approached the end. The details laid themselves out, but they didn't make sense. Incomprehensible. Upside down stairs, running perpendicular. Scaling cities without color.

  A world of black and white.

  Three-dimensional, human figures.

  Motionless, wearing the same suits.

  At the city square, in a puddle of white rain…

  …A turbid mashup of flesh.

  “We're here!” Konton stepped right into the chaos, a finger pointing out! A smile like a child. “Say hello, everyone, to my friend, Hiro!”

  .

  .

  .

  .

  .

  No one said anything.

  “Downers, I know.”

  “What is this place, Konton?” Hiro asked.

  “Ah, this? This—” An arm over his shoulder, and a wide gesture to what lay beyond. “—This, is my Labyrinth.”

  Hopping over to the center of it all, arms outstretched as he spun round, round and round. “A manifestation of my soul! Isn’t it amazing!”

  “But,” Hiro scratched his head, eyes darting all about and getting lost every single time. “I can’t understand what’s happening here. Like, why are these people different than us?”

  “Different?” Konton seemed offended. “Dude, they’re the most normal thing you’ve seen so far.”

  “No, they’re…”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “They’re…..”

  “Don—”

  “More dimensional!”

  “CRAP!” Konton facepalmed! The hardest facepalm in the century! Eyes moved over to one of the “souls”. “Hey, James!"

  [Yes?] - Voice of the soul, heard only by Konton.

  “How many dimensions are you?”

  [None]

  A footstomp, then his attention back to Hiro, who of course, was unimpressed. “See?”

  “But, he didn’t say anything. His mouth ain’t moving.”

  Something dawned upon Konton.

  Yeah, keep forgetting he’s a new soul. Usually everyone else who steps into this Labyrinth sees everything and nothing at the same time.

  If he thinks that he’s really him, and I’m really me, then…

  “Alright, change of heart!” A sudden smile. “You’re gonna go and meet my mom and sister!”

  “Wha?” Confusion, “You hate them, though. How am I supposed to find my way through without you?”

  “You’re only saying that because you’re in here. When you go out there, memory clicks, and you’ll know the way.” Konton shrugged, “Trust me, I’m just too complex for you. I truly do want us to be good friends, but you gotta learn some new perspective, because as cool as I am… I’m not the only one who’s... extraordinary.”

  A fruitful implication.

  Well… I am curious.

  “Oh yeah, before ya go,” Konton’s finger sliced the air—then reality, a black portal bursting through. “Remember, just do what you want. Don’t tether yourself to anyone, not even yourself. That’s the only way we can stay friends.”

  Hiro didn’t know what that meant, but right here, right now, the grotesque expression of Konton’s eyes resonated with him far too much for him to ask anymore questions.

  An action of obedience, stepping into the portal.

  But, before he went...

  He smiled, turning into a mirror for Konton.

  “Will do, friend.”

  A second, and he was gone.

  “Heh!” A heartfelt chuckle. “I still can’t see an ending.”

  “Looks like I came just in time.”

  A woman’s voice came from the heart of the city. Gaze to the east, the Witch from the play came out of the shadows. Dayaan Habushi!

  Konton smiled, “Well, I guess you really were following us.”

  “You were keeping an eye for the crows, huh?” She asked, strutting into the center of the megaplex. “Looks like you’re taking after your sister.”

  “She’s taking after me—oh!”

  Just barely, he caught the Golden Orb!

  “Nice! More food! But, for what?”

  “For killing the nuiscances.” An answer, followed by a dramatic hairflip. “A Witch can unfortunately hear a lot of rotten apples. It really breaks my immersion.”

  “Was breaking ours, too. Though, I’ll probably get into a scuffle with one of them when their souls get patched up.” Sigh.

  “Actually, you have a bigger admirer to take care of.”

  The raise of the brow, “Hm?”

  “They’re not after you,” A pause, and then—”They’re after that soul of yours.”

  Uh oh.

  Wait..

  Oh yeah… I forgot.

  It's Alien Day.

  To Be Continued!