Empty: Book 2

42 : This Living World

JOAS

[ "Attention to every living body: Those who desire their present life to take over their soul, leave this place. Those who desire to end the pain, give it to one of the dead." ]

Nature is rich, I'll never be uninformed of that. This talented recorder that broadcasted the great warning around the nation has proven all the matter of that. The extent of its capability to manipulate any audio device with the same frequency it has wasn't expected but the job is utterly gratifying.

Not to deceive, it's a stroke of empathy.

If their ego is too gigantic for their brain to obey, they're all heads of idiots. I'd laid out the instruction clearly, repeatedly. To enunciate the scheme of the apocalypse aims for only one of the three deeds to apply; a decision to donate life, resist, or value the living body they biologically owned.

It's a test.

We're born free, all the same, will die free. The power of euthanasia is where the chronicle has begun and so will the end since the pleasure of death didn't work out as I sought in the past, in a disastrous method is my only hold to this present. A viral mutation for a cause.

Prudent living bodies, naturally, took the advice too emotionally from the dead bodies who were just seeking an obliging contributor in a way of aggressively mixing up. But believe me, I don't like it a little bloody. The undead battalion, unfairly, sees themselves in harmony they're saving mankind's world to consider at least— they are now cognizant of themselves in all their glory.

Everyone's mad, but the substance of madness goes both ways; a mad survival pitching in the eyes much louder than their scream's significance whilst one's madness is to target at least one to complete the vitality they used to own, evolved them into grumbling freaks snatching flesh and another, reminding me of how every one of us is motivated by different rewards. Both madness is reasonable— as for me who tunes up the festive battle to run this inclination with.

In this segment of the first phase of catastrophe, all I see so far are bodies deciding to resist. Equal determination of two distinct species sensible by their pounding feet trembling this town I'm running in like a careless victim. As much as I want, I'm not here as the mediator. I'm in a far different category where these corpses won't rip me to death, but alive humans will surely do me worst. Praise to their undivided awareness occupied in deciding what to do with their bodies, my presence is not yet known as the man behind the voice who made them move, who's now committing his unsafe adventure carrying a briefcase like a normal person with worldly goods worth taking. I'm swimming in their waves of exploding blood, for none to realize.

At the rightest moment, the world will be soon the living place of one who wins the colonization. And I'll be the most excited to show the world full of humanity who are all proud to survive together with those who had raised right after a lifelike race as they're deceased, an appeal of new living. Anything can happen, but not to tell I'm afraid of doing everything as a whole mistake. Nonetheless, I'm still wishing half of each kind to prevail for a great balance for the best of both worlds.