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"Woah, what in the world!"

He was trying to tuck in his shock and excitement. He didn't want to give himself cheaply to the funny looking creature.

He didn't give a damn about the monster at that moment. He was trying as much as possible to process so many a thoughts.

He didn't know how to register them. He was actually going to register them independently. That was all he was envisaging. He didn't want to saddle his instinct with so much a responsibility.

He knew that he would do just that. He knew that he would have his way. He knew that he would make it all count. He knew that he would soon steer clear of useless thoughts.

He was only counting his options. He was sieving his chances and learning the stances. That was all he could do. He couldn't had done better than those. He didn't want to do better.

Plus he didn't want Poseidon to know that he was shocked at the realization of where they were. He didn't want to give himself away cheaply.

He didn't want to sell his pride and gore his gullible guts. He had been training his instinct ad would keep training it. That was all that counted.

The gate of the tower was very great. The serpent had halted before a tower decked with gold. Like refined gold.

He was sure that he hadn't seen anything of such makes ever in his life. He didn't even know the things he had seen. He didn't know if they really did matter.

He didn't know if they were really worth his thoughts. He was only trying to sieve his options. He tried to allow his instinct digest the shape of the structure.

He wanted to be sure that he was sane enough to understand what was going on. He didn't know what he would do if his instinct was bleeding.

There was actually nothing he could do. He would only watch things take new turn and life tempt his rage. That was all he had been trying to steer clear.

But he did know that he wouldn't avoid it for long. He knew that he wouldn't treat his impatience for life. He knew that he wouldn't have to nurse his worries for life. But time would test it.

Time would pull the rage and tell him what to and what not to do at that spot. He didn't even know if he was really expected to do something at that spot.

He tried to compare the height of the gate to what he had seen before. He hadn't seen anything of such sort. He wasn't allowing himself to be so surprised.

He knew what he had gotten himself into being in the world of fantasy. He wouldn't be ripped off by the pangs of the new trends or whatever the creature would toss at him.

He had been training his heart to be strong and indifferent. He had been training his instinct to be lousy and not to give a damn. He hoped that twould really work out for him.

He hoped that he would be able to bank on those recent feelings. Well, all he could do was hope at that point. There was nothing much his instinct or rage could afford.

He was hoping that time would have its test and time would tumble across the lawn of his rusty rage. Then he would be able to fix quite the numbers of things his instinct had let loose.

He knew how to cobble them all. He knew how to walk his way around them. He would figure things out.

He didn't know what was taking Poseidon time to instruct the beast to open the door or something close to that, so that they could enter through the gate then make their worn way into the tarred tower.

He didn't know if he was trying to make him figure out all that would be necessary to his writing. He didn't know if the monster wanted him to catch the best glimpse and draw a mental picture of the building so that he could make reference to it when he did return to him.

He didn't know what he did have in mind. He let his heart rehearse all the pain which had been lent. He knew that he would still give himself to the structure of the building and everything which it did encompass.

He knew that he would still want to figure out how things worked there and things he was supposed to do. He wasn't simply ready for that at that moment. He was still contending with the dark side within himself.

He needed to establish a balance before he would be able to set a standard for whoever was interested to see. He didn't really care.

He was beginning to become light. After what Poseidon had asked him few whiles back. He was more than sure that he would have to return to earth.

He did know that sooner or later, he would return to earth. He did know that sooner or later he would be available for his family. He didn't know if he was really happy or sad.

He didn't know which feeling he was supposed to support. He didn't know which feeling he was supposed to build upon. He knew that each feeling did has its own strength and that was that he was ready to build upon.

There were more than quite the numbers of things he would still figure out. He couldn't wait to see the other Nymphs the monster had talked about. He didn't know if he was really for real about those.

But he was sure that the monster could do several other things but lie. He knew that. How did he? Why was he banking his thoughts on some pious psychopath.

He didn't even know what shape his instinct was taking anymore. He didn't care what would happen. Even when it had been happening, what had he been able to do?

He couldn't count the numbers of bars that were etched in the gate. He didn't know who would be so jobless to do that. He was more than sure that the bars were quite many.

And there were scales all over them. Well, the scales did actually didn't make the gate look odd or wierd, but pleasant. He would have to commend the effort whoever the maker of the gate was.

He didn't know what had inspired such. He didn't even know what always did inspire the arts of the underworld. He hoped that he would find an answer. He hadn't even asked the question yet.

He would still do that of course, but he was only trying to figure things out. That was all that he was trying to do. He pushed the thought aside. The width of the gate also was very alarming.

He didn't know how large twas. He was sure that even if he was with a tape with which he would measure it, then he wouldn't even be done doing that in several hours. He was yet contemplating on what did inspire their arts. He did know about earth.

If he was inspired back on earth, twas always by one of the natural elements. If he was inspired to write a poem also, twas always by what he had seen.

He remembered getting inspiration from crickets in the hay some whiles back while he was on earth. He could even remember Myclops told him that he was also inspired by the walls of his cave.

That did sound ridiculous but twas at least something one could see and feel. No inspiration is usually in isolation.

We usually suck ideas from what others had given. But he didn't know how true that was to the underworld. All he could do was to ignore the thought. He did just that.

After several minutes, Poseidon urged the beast to move forward. He urged it to advance towards the gate which was yet locked.

He didn't know what he was doing. He was trying to figure out. He knew that he wasn't supposed to make attempts trying to figure out what the crazy Poseidon was usually up to.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He was usually and mainly the onlooker. That was all he was and he was trying to keep the title for the meantime. That of course should mean something.

Then as the beast took few steps forward, the gate opened and damn! He knew that he would collapse. He didn't know what for or why he would. He didn't even know if he was thinking properly.

He wasn't sure if his instinct was doing the best thing it could. He didn't know if he was really giving his best. They advanced into the large area as the gate shut itself behind him.

He didn't know what to believe. Probably there was a spiritual gate keeper. He couldn't really be sure. He didn't know what to think.

He looked back from the serpent he was on and noticed few tongues of fire littered on the left and right of the walls holding the gate. He hoped that he wouldn't continue being a pawn.