The swarm of red bees hovered in the air like a spherical storm, their wings playing a brassy tune—a thread of sound unseen, yet deeply felt, like an ancient ghost merging with flesh.
In a spiral twist, the red swarm soared north, leaving behind a black giant, dark as the moonless sky. His majestic form gradually came into being.
He stood naked beneath the shimmer of flickering shadows. His presence carried the aura of a noble angel descending from heaven. His muscles were boldly sculpted yet gentle on the eye. His hair was as dark as the night, curled like nightmares, waving with menace like an enraged dragon.
His heartbeat pulsed with a romantic calm, as if he were kissing time itself.
He stretched his arms toward the rays of the sun, lifting his head back with a deep breath... then opened his eyes—moonlike—with two pale pupils resembling white voids. He glanced with suspicion toward the departing swarm,
then stared at his blood-soaked hands with a broken smile.
Slowly, he raised his ghostly pupils to the horizon, his thick lashes narrowing. Towering white mountains surrounded him on all sides.
The bees circled around me, their stares piercing—as though I were prey causing their mouths to water... I had fallen under the microscope the moment I awakened. I must tread carefully!
He lowered his gaze to the earth, seeing baobab trees with radiant, velvety leaves like cotton.
They were scattered like a flock of sheep, their branches coated in snow, just like the mountain peaks. He turned his head upward for a moment, then took slow steps until he reached his mark. He touched a dark rope with his thumb, connected to the heart of a cloudy blossom, as though it had sprouted from the sun...
"This world is so strange... Was this made of steel?"
He wasn't asking—he was trying to feel, trying to reclaim something long yearned for in those stolen dreams.
His lids drew close as he stared toward the north. His intent wavered before his next step...
"I'll start with the other region first."
He began walking with weakening steps, a glint of tears shimmering in his eyes. He had already lost everything... so what good are emotions now?
He laughed coldly, then crouched at the southern edge of the nectar. Slowly, he raised his head toward the mirror of the sky.
I hope this time is different!
He lifted his hand as if to grasp something. Is there anything in this world that can still stir me? I don't know whether the bees are allies or foes lurking in disguise!
He lowered his hand in boredom—when suddenly, a figure shimmered in the sky.
On the southern mountain borders, there was a small village.
A village inside the forest?!
A wide smile parted his cheeks—only to fade in a blink into cold caution. What are they doing to that blonde woman?!
Two massive masked men were forcing a woman into a large square.
He sprang up with a push of his arms and slid off the nectar's edge.
His feet struck ground coated in sleek black grass. He stood upright, glancing toward a path shrouded in tree leaves. Is that the village's main entrance?
He bent slightly and plucked a single blade of grass. He examined it down to its root, which wept a fluid like oil. The scent wasn't awful. Hmm? He licked it with the tip of his tongue, then spat.
"Damn it—Is this blood?!"
The taste was like pus mixed with lemon juice and rotting sugarcane. He tossed the blade away and wiped his mouth, his gaze falling to the floor of the nectar... Hmm?
There were ornate letters inscribed at the nectar's base. The lines were wide and white, crafting symbols like celestial beings—distorted, yet grand. He stepped closer until the nectar's shadow cloaked him, then raised his hand and began tracing the phrases with his fingers. Suddenly, his head recoiled with a slight shudder—one of the letters had moved, appearing in another line.
"What are these strange letters?!"
He raised his brows briefly, then resumed inspecting every edge of the nectar... but discovered nothing yet. The letters were interwoven like thorny chains, yet they dispersed like scattered petals after each knot. Some letters even shifted upon his touch.
They evaded contact every time, making them difficult to track or decipher!
He placed his hand under his eyes, mumbling:
"The complexity of this language... it's nothing like anything I've known! Isn't there another way?!"
He began walking south again, then returned, rubbing around his eyes.
"I'll check that village... they might know something about this strange nectar."
Suddenly, he froze, as if remembering something more important. He began inspecting his body—from shoulders to toes. A strong, proportionate form. I feel I've outgrown my previous body by at least fifteenfold... and this blackness?!
His smile widened beneath a lifted brow. Magnificent!
He dropped his arms with a stretch, then walked in tight steps, delving into the forest... among golden tree trunks. He drew near to one, leaned in, and inhaled the scent of its soft leaves.
"It's familiar... like mint or saffron!"
He kept moving, now crouching as he walked. The air was stifling, and vision blurred beneath the trees' shade—but he would be vulnerable if he remained in the light... he turned swiftly, sensing footsteps behind him!
"This place feels suspicious... I better move quickly!"
...
After some time, at the edge of a small village, tiny creatures gathered around a foggy platform.
They wore shiny black veils clinging to their skin like leather.
They shouted: "Crush her! Burn this cursed wench!"
From behind the trees, the black giant spoke:
"What madness is this?!"
To be continued...