Chapter 1: Dream of Fallen Stars
Narrated by Leonid.
Narrator: Where am I?
Narrator: The forest soil is covered with moss. Laughter comes from nearby. Rows of houses surround the church in the center of town.
Narrator: The cross at the top of the church’s steeple is bathed in sunlight. It looks solemn and holy.
Narrator: There is a lush forest behind me and an endless ocean in front of me. The salty sea breeze carries the scent of mud and leaves.
Narrator: After some time passes, a memory answered my question.
Narrator: I am in a small Pigeon town near the sea. I have lived here for 22 years.
Narrator: But I shouldn’t be here now. Everything seems strange because I haven’t seen the sun or stood on solid ground in so long.
Narrator: I should be alone. I shouldn’t be able to hear other people’s voices.
Narrator: I lower my head as I hold newly bought paper and ink. I had just made my purchase for the month, and I was headed home.
Fisherman Couple: Mr. Leonid always has free time. Surely there’s no need to worry about how he makes a living.
Fisherman Couple: We wake up and fish every day, and we’re doing it just to feed our boys!
Narrator: I happened to cross paths with a couple who had just gotten off their fishing boat. They greeted me with cheerful smiles.
Narrator: I didn’t respond. I just focused on my walk from the forest to the beach.
Narrator: I’d never noticed what my neighbors were like. Maybe they talked to me, but I don’t remember unnecessary things like that.
Young Man: I wish I could be half as talented as Mr. Leonid.
Narrator: Recently, a man has often sat in the shade under the same tree on the side of the road and talked to himself about his troubles.
Young Man: I wonder how she’ll respond if I confess my love for her...
Narrator: I’m not interested in things like that. I kept walking across the seashore toward the banyan tree near the cliff.
Narrator: I built a tree-house on that tree all by myself. It was as far from the village as possible, and no one would bother me there.
Narrator: Occasionally, curious children would stop by, such as this boy who was waving a branch in front of my door like a sword.
Boy: Hey, mister! Why do you live out here by yourself?
Boy: Are you a designer? When I grow up, I want to be a hero that fights evil! Will you design my armor for me?
Narrator: I walked past him with a sigh and then closed the door behind me.
Choose either “You are too cold” or “Why are you sighing?”
If “cold,” ...
You: You’re anti-social.
Leonid: They could never understand my pursuit of truth, just as I could never understand their silly emotions.
If “sighing,” ...
You: Why are you sighing?
Leonid: Life goes on around me. Some things stay the same and some change. But it’s all just white noise. It has nothing to do with me.
--
Narrator: I’m entranced by the stars in my dreams. They’re a grand concerto where truth and law meet, more beautiful than the ocean waves outside my window.
Narrator: Paper was spread out on the workbench. The stars turned into my inspiration. They portrayed something brand new to this world.
Narrator: That is my unfinished design. It’s a sacred, pure white angel. Simple and beautiful as truth itself.
Narrator: I believed that once I figure out the stars’ secrets, she will spread her wings and smile at me.
Narrator: Tonight I wandered above the sea of stars.
Narrator: My anticipation lifted the fog in my brain, but my blood froze when I saw what was happening in front of me.
Narrator: The sky was in chaos.
Narrator: The stars were destroyed in a stream of falling flame, and the otherwise calm night was dyed in a dark red.
Narrator: The dazzling stars dimmed like dying flowers whose beauty has faded.
Narrator: Has the starlight I loved always been so ugly?
Leonid: No, that can’t be...
Narrator: I fought to resist the disappointment, but gravity regained control over me. I fell from the heights of truth in an abyssal sea. I was broken.
Narrator: The pain of it all opened my eyes.
Narrator: When I woke up, I was lying on the stargazing platform. The sky was full of stars, still shining and watching me quietly.
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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Nor does it seem unreasonable to believe even that there is an infinite number of trees in a single seed, since it contains not only the tree of which it is the seed but also a great number of other seeds that might contain other trees and other seeds, which will perhaps have on an incomprehensibly small scale other trees and other seeds and so to infinity. So that according to this view, which will appear strange and incongruous only to those who measure the marvels of God's infinite power by the ideas of sense and imagination, it might be said (1) that in a single apple seed there are apple trees, apples, and apple seeds, standing in the proportion of a fully grown tree to the tree in its seed, for an infinite, or nearly infinite number of centuries; (2) that nature's role is only to unfold these tiny trees by providing perceptible growth for that outside its seed, and imperceptible yet very real growth in proportion to their size, for those thought to be in their seed-for it cannot be doubted that there are bodies sufficiently small to get in between the fibers of these trees thought to be in their seed and thus to serve as food for them.
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once again thinking about this:
the absolute devastation this panel from "The Search" brings me is genuinely immeasurable.
there's just something about the way azula came here to confront her mother and to finally, finally be proven right. she wants her mother to tell her how much she hates her, how much she fears her, how she always hated her and preferred zuko because azula was a monster.
but when she actually gets the chance to confront her, she's faced not with her mother, but with a woman who has no recollection of her at all.
and even still, when she's attacking and threatening her, her mother, despite not knowing anything about azula or who she is, only states that she's sorry she didn't love azula more.
and the look of disbelief in azula's eyes; after being molded into the prodigy firebender, the weapon, her father wanted her be, she can't believe that her mother's telling the truth.
it's the way she wants to scream and challenge her mother, wants to tell her that she's wrong and that she's lying and she should just admit the fact that she hates azula already.
but that's not true. and azula genuinely can't wrap her head around it.
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