Work Text:
There is a world where anything can happen. A world where dragons could dance, where spaceships could soar, where mythology turns into reality, and reality is incomprehensible.
There is no hate, no war, and no bloodshed, just peace. It is a place where anything could happen, but everything is safe. There is no stress, depression, uncertainty, or death: just pure bliss and pure serenity—like a beautiful meadow on a chill spring day. A cool breeze blew a field of eternal dandelions. The seagull pegasuses chirped sweetly above the crashing cobalt waves. There are smells of cinnamon, Christmas trees, and apple blossoms, and you can always taste your favorite flavors in the air. It was a fantastical paradise.
Far below this world is the one who watches. The one who watches sits on a rock. He sees the pterodactyls flying, the mammoths dancing, and the mystical creatures playing with huge grins on their faces. Despite all the peace and fun, the man who watches never interacts with the world. He is the one who watches The others sing, laugh, and explore, but he stays the man who watches. The others fall in love, start families, and make the most of their life, but he stays the man who watches.
For the first time, a creature from the world above talks to him. She is an amalgamation of beasts from Greek, Norse, and West African mythology, yet she has an oddly human voice “Greetings, my boy. Why do you never join us?”
“Because I am the one who watches.”
“Why must you stay the one who watches? You need to join us. We have everything you could ever want.”
“I am the one who watches, not the man who does. I am content to just watch, now I kindly ask you to leave me be.”
Her warm eyes turned to ice. “Will you stay the one who watches if your world burns? If it all collapses, will you regret staying the one who watches?”
Fire starts to envelop his ground, the howls of demons torture his ears, cracks begin to form in the buildings above him, small cuts appear on the people, and the haunting scent of death fills his scorched throat and nostrils.
He looks at his hands, which have shadows of blood on them, yet still only says, “I am the one who watches.”
“Then the one who watches dooms himself.”