When Luca opened his eyes, the pain, the writhing, the hot sensation and his scrambled brain were gone.
Instead, what took root was a cool wash—a bath of cold liquor that soothed his insides and hardened his skin.
He lay sprawled inside the crater for gods know how long, his gaze blinking lazily at the ceiling.
His thoughts slowly lingered. Bit by bit.
As if fissuring in a puzzle.
He recalled the conversation of course.
A talk with the literal creator of cosmoses wasn't something easy to forget.
And it was because of that conversation that it was taking Luca forever to boot back into the game.
He sighed.
"That's an absurd goal. I understand his concept. They must be tired of watching their creations get destroyed… It's a natural thing for any creator."
But he wanted to question… just a little bit.
"They seemed all-powerful. Why didn't they just make it so?"
