Anthesis of Sadness

I had been climbing for what felt like hours... or perhaps the same moment repeated too many times.

The landscape, the smell, the steps — everything repeated. Tirelessly. In an infinity of slow, silent loops, without beginning or end. Each detail returned with the same worn precision, like a memory that wears out from coming back too often.

Time no longer passed: it stretched. Like a damp fiber, trembling, stretched between two breaths that had never managed to meet.

Me, I was there, suspended in this in-between, both outside and inside, without knowing if I was ascending something... or simply losing myself a little more with each step.

But ahead of me... something. An anomaly. A soft fault in the repetition.

Something new, which seemed to emerge from the loop without breaking it, like a different silence within continuous silence. A landing. Simple. Bare. Unexpected. Neither step nor turn. Just a space laid there, almost shyly, as if it apologized for breaking the order.

Immediately, my whole body tensed. Because in this borderless infinity... the slightest interruption became a call. Or a trap.

A platform floated there, suspended in the milk of the sky. Narrow, but stable. Bordered by pale mosses that pulsed slowly, like sleeping velvet hearts.

They weren’t decorative. They vibrated. They lived. One might say they were waiting for me. Or maybe they already knew I was going to fall here, exactly here, as planned.

I then felt, with mute clarity, that I wasn’t choosing this path. Not really. In this world, I was following a line. A trajectory inscribed under my skin. A fate that no longer asked for my opinion.

Since my encounter with that damned god... something had shifted. A silent fracture in my will. I was moving forward, yes. But it was no longer me who was tracing the road. I no longer controlled anything. And the worst part is, I could feel it with every step.