Mt. Sensan-Ghi

Act Five - The Man Who Stole The World

In the past, present and future, (also, never); there may have been a man. This man must have had a name though no one could tell you what it was. He may have been mad, they said but no one really knew why, aside from him not making much sense pretty much most of the time. This, the man had found to be normal as he went about his business, unfettered by their op.

The man was obsessed with life, the universe and everything, to the point of genuinely believing there was something wrong with it all. He was by no means the first to make these claims but may have been one of the few foolhardy enough to look for proof.

His search led him to all corners of the globe, meeting wise and mad men alike, scientists and preachers, but found no answer adequate enough.

As coincidence would have it, he met a man just before he would embark on his journey home, who told him of a modern prophet he needed to visit before giving up.

And so the man followed directions he was given and arrived at an ordinary building.

He chuckled at how ordinary it all looked before realising the building had no bells or buttons, no names or numbers anywhere.

He was given no time to continue his examination of the house before someone opened the door.

"Come this way mad one, our prophet is waiting." Said a clearly audible but soft female voice. She was hooded like a western monk, her robes were so large and oversized her that it seemed no one was wearing them. She let him up several flight of stairs before arriving at a corridor with only two ways to go.

"Worry yourself not with me and follow the light to the prophet." The monk spoke before walking off in the exact opposite direction that she was pointing.

And so he followed the light, quite literally. It seemed the hallways, stairs and the second door from the right were all lit with a strip of lights to help guide the way, there was no getting lost.

The man walked in to find a fatter older person sitting on a futon in an offensively asian themed room. The fat man was clearly not asian and felt very out of place in this room. Any features that could have indicated ethnicity, had it mattered at all, were hidden under layers of wrinkles and long grey hairs.

"Welcome mad one, I am the prophet Molodo, it is wonderful to finally meet you in the flesh, in a manner of speaking."

"You know me?" asked the mad man.

"I wouldn't say that as such, I have however seen you in my dreams, our meeting is what you may call fate."

"I'm not sure I'd call it fate if you send for me." The mad man replied.

The fat man smiled, amused by something only known to him.

"But never mind that. You seek answers about the world, and you have now found them," the fat man stated, "I am the man who dreams the world."

The mad one gave him a weird look.

"You do know how absurd that sounds, right?" He mocked.

The fat man laughed quite audibly again, which made the monk from earlier walk into the room in a mildly anxious strut. The fat prophet waved his hand at the monk and the monk sat down.

"I am sure it sounds absurd, but more absurd is that I know you possess a tool in that backpack that will prove I am not lying."

The mad man took a moment to think and started going through his backpack, looking for a specific tool. He wasn't sure if his scanning device was what the fat man meant, but he had an idea.