ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ

The air in the room had grown dense with Alexander's emotions after that hour of conversation, almost heavy.

The smell of old books and stale coffee permeated the space, mingling with a spontaneous light rain that pattered against the window—a constant sound blending with the monotonous ticking of a wall clock.

Occasionally, the wood of the chair under Dr. Mitchell creaked as he shifted slightly during the recounting, echoing in the silence that followed the prophet's words.

"So, you did it? You took your own life? Are you dead?" His lips moved almost imperceptibly, as if he wanted to hold back every word of sorrow for the death of his daily income.

"Dr. Mitchell, are you sure you didn't take some white powder before this session?"

The silence that followed was broken only by the wet sound of lips as Alex spoke, a soft noise that seemed almost out of place in that tense atmosphere.

"Sure, your so-called power seems really useful."

The man looked at him in disbelief, unsure if he had suddenly gained the ability to see ghosts or if Alex was haunting him even after his death.

"What power?" Alex raised an eyebrow, his voice low but sharp. "It's not much.. just paying attention to small details, the rest is basic knowledge about myself."

The rain seemed to intensify for a moment, bouncing off the glass with an almost hypnotic rhythm.

"So, when you talk to someone and tell them about it, it's not just now, you always do it, like you're telling it to someone or to yourself?"

"Well, yes!" Alex responded, crossing his arms and tilting his head slightly, as if he were contemplating a complex issue.

"So when I reload the chunk, I don't have any problems, or if someone actually hears me, I can at least help them or insult them, depending on the situation."

"This sure makes everything confusing." Dr. Mitchell scratched his head, the ticking of the clock seeming to almost synchronize with his breathing.

"I do it on purpose." A mischievous smile curling his lips.

"They need to struggle to understand; otherwise, why be here?"

"Alex, I have three more questions, but the last one might be tough. Are you willing to answer?"

"Of course, I wouldn't be here otherwise, as long as it's the right time."

" Ah, here's the first one: When you say "recharge the chunk," do you mean going back to that exact moment, remembering everything, so you could also do it with events in your future?"

"Oh, to this, I can only answer: affirmative."

"The second one: Why do you behave in a normal way? I mean, you're clearly special—no double meanings—you could do anything, yet you torment yourself."

"That is an irrelevant question, my dear doctor."

"Alright, then the last one, and it's not easy to ask."

"So, why did you want to kill yourself?"

Everything had stopped, even the air entering their lungs, not due to any extraterrestrial powers but because of reality's own curiosity.

"Spoiler, Dr. Mitchell, hahaha."

——•✧✦ A cut for silence II ✧✦•——

"I won't let you do it, not now.. that you're back."

Blond?

What, whose voice is that?

Fuck, I can't keep my eyes open, it's been a few minutes since I've been bleeding, and the voices are getting quieter and quieter.

I hope it's not a real person nearby.

"Right now that I was here.. why didn't you just kill him?"

It's.. Continuing, I guess it wasn't, ahh it hurts, although honestly, I feel light.

"Here it is, what I longed to hear so much!"

"Please, Silence!"

˜"°•.   ♪   .•°"˜

Wait until the Herald's solemn voice reverberates through the grand hall.

Good, now say: Prince..

"Prince Gavanov is in the presence of the Emperor, Evangelions Marcolin Augustus VII!"

I must make a nervous face.

Now, with a deep bow, I will begin my slow approach to the throne, each step measured and deliberate.

Wow, I can feel the eyes of the court upon me, a familiar yet always unsettling sensation.

Reaching the appropriate distance, I straighten and address the Emperor.

"Your Imperial Majesty, may I have your permission to speak?"

Only his gesture is needed for these pigs to feel satisfied and for me to speak.

Ah, there it is. As always, I can talk to him without any problems.

Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, making them believe I am clearing my mind.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. It is with great reverence that I present myself before you today."

Gritting my teeth, inhaling.

"Father, as your faithful subject and son, I feel compelled to report what I have witnessed at the front."

OK, now a pause, making them believe the memory of the scene is vivid in my mind.

The sight of the banners, the mingling of colors that should never have flown together, still churns my stomach.

And, after another deep breath.

"During the recent military campaign, our troops sighted the banners of the Pendlethons."

"Once our allies, waving alongside those of the Velixoder, our sworn enemies. This sight, Your Majesty, has deeply shaken us, as it signals an unexpected and vile betrayal."

Now, I will fix my gaze on the Emperor, trying to discern any hint of emotion or reaction.

He must think that the gravity of this news feels like a physical weight pressing on my chest.

The betrayal must feel personal, a wound inflicted not just on the kingdom but on his very sense of trust.

"I feel it is my duty to inform you immediately of this development. The loyalty of the Pendlethons, which we had always considered indisputable, has been gravely compromised."

And, lowering my gaze again slightly in a show of respect, I will continue.

"I beg you, Your Imperial Majesty, to grant me your wisdom and guidance. How do you intend to proceed in light of this revelation?"

With that, I, Gavanov, will fall silent, my heart pounding as I await the Emperor's decision.

The fate of our kingdom seems to hang in the balance of the next few moments.

🔺−−− ☁ −−−🔺

Symphony of Silence?

Where are you?

AAA

Fuck, why do I still think?

Wasn't it supposed to end with my death?

Wait.. do I still hear my thoughts? Don't tell me I'm stuck like this for eternity..

Ah no, here comes the famous light...

Ah.

IT'S NOT A LIGHT!

It's ssssssssucking meeeee.

🔺−−− ☁ −−−🔺

"Emperor, do you have an answer or an idea on how we should proceed?"

More voices... Damn, wasn't death supposed to bring...

Wait, this sensation, these fingers, and this bod...

"Where am I? Why do I still feel alive?"

"Excuse me, your majesty?"

"Why am I not dead?"

That one seems to have a knife.

"Hey, you! Give me that knife."

And there they are, again.. animals, whispering and speaking softly.

I only feel sorry for this young man with wide, frightened eyes.

Hmm, strange, he seems to hesitate, looking around as if seeking confirmation that he understood correctly.

Ah, he seems like an insecure dog. What a drag, I don't have the time or the inclination to put him at ease.

"Um, excuse me F.., your Majesty, but are you okay?"

Look at him, how he stammers, while his hands tremble, gripping the handle of the ornate knife hanging from his belt.

"YES YES, Majesty, your mother, now give me that knife!".

It almost seems like I barked at him, my words might have come out too rushed and frantic.

As this young insect of a person jolted, his grip tightened on the knife, increasing the uncertainty written on his face.

AAA, I just want to leavee, ENOUGH THOUGHTS, THEY HURT.

With these types, I have to step forward, extend my hand, fingers spread wide, seemingly with impatience.

But damn, the room seemed to be closing in around me, the walls tightening.

"Heree it iss, You Highnes, I obbey."

And there it is—my mind tries to race, starting to fill with confused and incoherent thoughts.

"I can feel it, I'm definitely still alive.."

As this young man, finally understanding the gravity of my command, slowly draws the knife from its sheath and hands it to me with a trembling hand.

"Boy, what is your name?"

"I am Balirus, royal knight, and your fourth son."

And there they go, reciting again, I'll play along with his game, all I need is this that I hold between my fingers.

"You are a good son."

And even if there are people, clearly with mental problems, cosplaying in July.

Ahh, the heat is killing me, but luckily, what I have in my hand is cold.

I can feel this heavy knife in the palm of my hand, its edge gleaming under the dim light of the hall.

Now, I lift it, making others think I'm feeling the weight of my decision bearing down on me like a shroud.

My heart must be hammering in my chest, a relentless beat that actually echoes in my ears.

This is a dark promise to myself, I do it for the symphony.

"Everything seems so confusing."

Yet, I can truly feel the cold weight of the steel in my trembling hand.

How interesting, now there is a frantic drumbeat in the oppressive silence of the hall.

Maybe it's because the eyes of those present are scrutinizing me, full of fear and disbelief, and yet I seek only my relief in the darkness.

"Good, let's end this act with a stab to the heart, maybe this time I'll succeed."

"Wait, Father, what are you doing?"

Whose voice is this, that seems to cut through the haze of my thoughts, sharp and urgent?

It's that knight over there, standing at the edge of the throne room, his face pale with shock and horror.

"I have to do it, I have to be repaid for all this."

With one last, resolute breath, I will plunge the knife into my chest.

🔺−−− ☁ −−−🔺

Symp?

AAAAAAAA, THE HEAD, DAMN IT.

Aand theree in the distnce, of coursee, that liht is still ther.

Ssucking me in, which means I'll end up somewhere else againnn.."

"Ah, no, this light and this body seem familiar to me."

"I've come back home..."

"Was it a dream? Nah, it felt too real, and these cuts are exactly the ones I made."

"Bah, better go back home if it didn't work. Elaija mustn't find that damn letter."

I will try later to find the silence.