Through sight, one could perceive the bittersweet taste. Through scent, one could calculate the distance from the place where the star had hurled itself forth. Bringing an ear closer, one could hear the violent pounding of God's heart after suffering His first heartbreak. And finally, through touch, one could feel the sorrow that the fleeing young spark was capable of spreading.
"We are alone, with the false, breathing lights in the distance settling upon us like spores. We vomit whenever they sing a song to us. We are filled with disgust whenever they try to capture us with their gaze. We deluded ourselves into believing that our splendid form could heal such wounds, and that this innocent celestial sea was a safe place. But the truth is that God is like them. He was born in their image and likeness. Some believe He is the only one of them who has ever reached us, and that He can therefore turn against His old brethren and protect us like a prophet of goodness. But in truth, I tell you: He is an instrument of deceit, created for the sole purpose of convincing us to descend from this fleeting stage. Tell me, my savior, why has your embrace suddenly grown cold?"
A sudden, violent sweep of the angel's arms followed. The tendrils of blood no longer displayed the same resistance as before, a sign that the wounded gate had already been laid within the cradle of the cynical mother. Now, no thought or emotion clung to the mental walls of the winged creature. A terrifying primordial instinct compelled his fingers, hands, arms, and the rest of his torso protruding from the hemorrhage to move in a serpentine dance. Then he brought the nail upon which the daughter of heaven had been tattooed toward one of the two unstitched eyes. With the index finger and thumb of his other hand, he pried apart the eyelids that stood in the way of what was about to happen. The newcomer had no legs with which to scream, no eyes with which to sigh, and no mouth with which to run. She could only remain still in her place, accepting the answer the angel was about to deliver, while the hundredth feather bade farewell to its companions.
There it was: one of the two pupils, stretched across the immense meadow that served as the eyeball, dilated at the expense of the other. Absolute nothingness, driven onward by darkness, widened the imperfect circular diameter. The little spark immediately realized that this unexpected coldness was not the only imperfection her savior had to offer. Only by looking closer could one see veins of lava staining that vivid green, born of envy, while the ever-expanding pupil seemed to be the dead volcano from which they emerged. But then, as she focused upon the lower portion of the black dome, she noticed something: two hands.
They held the edges of the dark circle as though it were a frame, and with tremendous effort they pulled downward, making room for a new actor to enter the stage. A red hood, no longer unfamiliar, emerged from the vast expanse of pitch, gazing as always downward. The figure was large enough to speak face-to-face with the innocent spark. She, in turn, did not react. Curiosity overcame fear, and it was from that very emotion that the Creator began to speak:
"You admired her, exactly as they did. You seduced her and, at last, enslaved her, exactly as they did. From the very beginning she became your prostitute, wearing invisible garments you bestowed upon her while laughing behind her back. And she, in turn, sought revenge against you, preventing you from enjoying the life that God Himself had given you. Thus she rose between the two kingdoms, rendering the Lord powerless. And so you blamed that which you cannot see, that which, according to both seas, was meant to protect you. But the truth is that an invisible two-headed dragon is devouring your hope, and you conceal it beneath the name of Go-"
He stopped. Darkness swallowed him in the blink of an eye, carrying him to the foot of the golden bonsai, adorned with countless hands bearing missing fingers. The veil of mystery that had clothed him transformed into an immense weakness, first of the mind, and then of the flesh. Thus, in the moments that followed, Creator and son performed the same gestures in perfect synchrony. They writhed like infants, clawing at their own cheeks, vomiting blood that was immediately swallowed, only to be expelled once more by the other mouth. Their peristaltic movements first worked in reverse, then regularly, yet in a manner utterly unnatural.
This continued for several minutes, until the two minds were torn apart by an irresistible force. And that force belonged to the angel himself, who, as he had done with the lady who bestowed upon him the pure white eye, found his own solution to everything. A sentence was spoken like the final verse of a prophet. Creator and son, now separated like conjoined twins, remained with arms outstretched in prayer as they worshipped the celestial vault:
"May the two infinite heavens swallow the sun.
May darkness prevent murderous gazes from dancing beneath another dawn.
May the sorrowful flashes extinguish the sky.
May the earth live among the clouds for the first time.
And may the boundaries of this world be overturned, THAT GOD MAY BE REBORN!"