⇀At the very beginning one would never assume — though never not imply — that the figment of their imagination not be a hallucination, but a creation. One chips away at the spikes on their walls; burnt areas skimming along their home. A temple in which they hurt while watching it all tear down. Colors obscuring what they had thought of to be black and white; now to be painted in colorful shades of red, maroon, dry tears and saliva.
…An ugly vision clouding his head, but nevermore an idea; no paper could express what had in mind. Visualizing a natural disaster; seen as a disordered chaos, perhaps time was cursed at this point.
Hunger ravenous enough to kill a country; voices screamed to flee to from whence He came. But alas, where had He been before?
..Growling — gargling, to be more specific. It was only then that El Tiempo de La Nada Absoluta realized it must’ve been his stomach.
As mentioned before, food was to be consumed.
…Banging on the table and spears darting across the room; nah nah nah was being sung in an infinite melody by the merchants daughter (spoken for itself).
And approaching the topic, ETdLNA was fed the remedy of her voice.
…War was not among them, but a battle indeed had begun since the start of their time. The Bible stating only a quarter of the time to be believed in La Nada Absoluta’s kingdom, El Tiempo had to be the most skeptic. A book, a mere book being worshiped out of line and beyond more than the extent He was. Praise as his breakfast, snack and dessert, more voices were to be eaten or else the threat of melting would be exposed. And that, The people could not know of.
Because hunger was his defeat.
And defeat, no ruler tolerated.
…Raspy rebellion; promiscuity dancing on His lap; sex was the only fragrance in the air besides scented wax set on fire and isolating glass. Not have His lover’s tongue, not to have skillful triumph against trembling zippers; Bid thee poor riddance before one could say hermaphrodite.
…And curtains drape in the slowest motion; the Earth pauses in its circulation — just as the fictitious blood in El Tiempo’s veins.
This, He is halted with an abrupt collision of what felt like conflict.
Much like an Earthquake.
Contradiction was in the form of numbers printed upon His shoes; creeping like insects searching for cover from charging prey. Only that, this time, prey was not among them. Quite the contrary, quite frankly.
…So as leather met a fog that mixed with clay; clouds formed overhead and wary eyes could only panic as evolution elicited mass waves of wind to wipe El Tiempo’s cape off his shoulders.
"SHED THE BLOOD OF THINE TRAITOR TO REDEEM THYSELVES."
El Trueno shouted in its lowest phase.
And to figure what he meant, there was only one explanation The people could assume of His warning:
…"STONE THE LORD; THE ONE WHO BETRAYED US!"
And with that, the citizens of La Nada Absoluta threw large chunks of hard granite at The ruler. "TRAITOR, TRAITOR, TRAITOR!" They all shouted in anger.
Then was it a mix of black and white; moon blocked over, fire arising from the center of the Earth and human skin scaling into that of a typical seal. Though slimy and dripping of mucus; beauty was found in their yellow eyes. How The citizens did not burn, no one knew, but El Trueno could sign as a massive TitleWave poored over them without a moment to spare;
abandonment of faith.
…Because once they suffered, it was some to make El Trueno roar with laughter as He remained almighty. But not seconds passed before nothing existed and life was none other than a legend to mythical Gods.
Tiempo: Not created, only given a name.
Not cruel nor generous; seen in many ways.