The Colour Purple Chapter 132: the Strange Animals, a king of fighters fanfic

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Note to self: Legacy chapter numbering (32- - -), does not match. [Original chapter written 2016]

[IT] is the PRINCE of the World. At the very end, it is the only one who will stand by your side when everyone becomes your enemy. You gain the zealous clarity of what you want – and you lose the fear of death. When these two conditions are met, then [IT] will allow itself to be seen.

I grow so TIRED of this world. WHY do I still exist?

…

Robert was SURE – he was sure that in the split second of the DARKNESS, he saw Clark disappear, but when he blinked, driven to the edge of his stamina, when he blinked, Clark had reappeared, he was still there for some perplexing reason.

Clark scratched the back of his right fist with his left hand nonchalantly. He looked up at Robert, paused then looked back down. What infuriated Robert so much, was the fact that Clark, after all this, said NOTHING. Curling his shoulders up and cracking them to tense then relax, Clark kept to himself and that asshole remained silent as he always did.

I know, I KNOW I saw it, GODDAMNIT, and I KNOW that you KNOW that I know that you know that I know you saw [IT]. In that 'instant'.

{Yet you refuse to even grant me that, don't you…?}

Clark looked up at Robert, perplexed; the expression on his face wanted to say, 'why are you looking at me this way?' WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME AS IF NOTHING HAD HAPPENED?

God DAMN you. Don't dim the lights, and pretend that nothing is wrong!

…

That 'instant' was similar to that moment, when a boy saw a girl, and something…

…

{How did you THINK all this happened?} He cussed with venomous breath. 'Nikushimi', no it's not just that. 'ZOUU'. The hatred of all things. Misanthropic. The emotion is so strong, even guilt, morality and even logic has no power over it.

And did you really think that given a similar circumstance, things would turn out differently?

"What is your ultimate goal? And, when will you be satisfied?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The boy replied, scratching his knees though his trousers. "Until we can END fighting. Ofcourse…" He said matter of factly.

Because I HATE fighting.

…and until then, I have to defeat anyone who stands in the way of our true purpose! BECAUSE the KING is righteous. And anyone who makes her stray, is WRONG.

…

"Ah. Is it teatime, dear?" The mother put her palms over her knees and bent down to address her daughter who sat cross legged, 'Indian sit', silently – in front of her was a plastic playset, two cups and saucers, an array of small decorative spoons, and a teapot in between.

"Yes… No." the child bobbed her face, but then shook her head slowly, "No." In between responses she would look up to her mother then back forward with focused intent.

Behind the girl was a small humanoid duck, with a green hat and shirt. To the far side of her room was an identical doll but with red clothes – and behind it was a pile of stuffed dolls stacked up like a mound of lifeless bodies, stacked 3 feet high. Behind the teacup in front of the small girl was another similar humanoid structured duck doll, clothed in blue.

"Oh. The three ducks…" The mother mused. "Is that," She pointed to the blue duck. "Is that Huey? No." No, she stopped herself. "Is that… Louie?"

The girl did not reply, and did not even look up at her mother, an uninvited interloper to her calm and deep conversation. Although she did not notice it, her mother noted that her lower lip bobbed open and closed slightly like a peculiar goldfish and her daughter nodded her head up and down in an erratic fashion, as if she kept pace with a random pattern of syllables. "Yes!"

The mother leaned forward. "Dear, who are you talking to?" She asked. "Are you talking to, Louie?"'

The little girl sighed, puckering her lips, visibly annoyed at being momentarily distracted by such a seemingly ridiculous question. "Mama." She said lethargically, putting the plastic teacup on her chest with her left hand and pointed at the blue clothed duck in front of her.

The mother grinned, she had seen this before, and certainly it was normal behavior.

"Mama." The girl said again to her mother, "No, I am talking to HIM." The girl said so matter of factly. But when the grown woman turned her gaze from her child, she felt a long knife stab in her heart in a sensation she could not easily understand. Her daughter's finger had shifted slightly and pointed to the empty space to the right of the blue clothed plush doll. "Mama. I am not talking to Louie… I am talking to…" HIM!

[HE] said HE can help me. The little girl pointed into a dark void, so perplexed why this adult could not understand something so easy to comprehend.

…and behind it was a pile of stuffed dolls stacked up like a mound of lifeless bodies, stacked one on top of each other, 3 feet high.

Did you really NOT see it then? Or did you simply delude yourself to the obvious truth?

…

The MADNESS overcomes you.

{I am sorry for every thing, that I've done to you.}

You said it yourself, in truth, humans are built with two hands, two elbows, a pair of feet - knees and a head. At least in striking, there are only a limited number of moves a normally built human being can perform. If you can break down each section and respond with a prompt and effective reply to each, there is conceivably NOTHING you CANNOT counter.

Let us DESTROY everyone, then. EACH. And. EVERY. one of them.

December 25, 1977. The seventh day. (121)

"You will never beat me… Clark." King replied flatly.

When TWO ultimate truths [collide], reality, now unable to logically parse what is right and what is wrong; [it] has no recourse, but to subdivide like an asexual organism.

You are NOT a GOD.

If you can do it... surely… [i] can do [it] too… King.

"I have waited very long," Clark sighed sweetly – to meet someone like YOU.

PATIENTLY . LOVINGLY . LONGINGLY . just as THEY waited for GOD to absolve them...

Why did you even try SO HARD? Eventhough no one FORCED you to fight. Eventhough you KNEW you were going to lose? (42)

NO, it was NOT that time, when I felt [it]. The moment I truly felt the PRINCE separate from what I once thought was the ULTIMATE MEANING. THAT TIME was…

"So THEREFORE," Robert simply reasoned irrationally. "I simply have to come at you from an IMPOSSIBLE angle of attack." Robert wheezed, trying to stay with them for just a little bit longer. Trying to stay to the very end of their affair.

"If you can do it... [i] can do it too." Robert teased with a smile.

The King cussed under her breath, yet under that rancid veil, he told herself softly, just so no one else but HE and IT could hear – "I once knew someone else who said the same thing."

…she said, in 1984.

…

October 26, in 1984, The Terminator, directed by James Cameron was released.

At the same time, another Singularity occurred.

…

December 24, 1977. The Sixth Day.

"In order to be FREE," we simply have to PROVE everyone else WRONG.

BECAUSE, WE ARE RIGHT. And even [G_O_D] dare not defy us!

1993.

"YURI!" Robert screamed, when the lifeless girl's body did not respond and fell limp on the ground. Robert turned his face unto Clark, his clawed hands floating waist height defying the story. "YOU MOTHER FUCKKK…"

"Ugghhh…" Clark sucked in the cool air through the spaces in between his gnashing teeth. He could not hear anything, and all the sound around him seemed to combine, only to resonate simultaneously into a shrieking hum, with the sole purpose to keep his mind clear.

A tiger, a wild beast slowly stepped out from the dark and while romanticized as an animal that traversed the line between grace and rage – this time however, a maddening rancor had forced its pupils into small pinpoints. All notions of fear, of apprehension had become unimportant as it ROARED. Foaming at the mouth, the tiger's fangs overlapped each other, just wanting nothing else but to rip the entire universe into small pieces. NOTHING else mattered. And the beast ROARED. Unable to control itself its RAGE just wanted to devour everything.

In a split second, everything in front of us had become easier to understand. Clark tilted his head up slowly. Who is this man? Oh, it has to be HIM. The way he transfers his weight backwards to his right foot, the way he shifts his upper torso clockwise and how he seems to clench his right hand unbalanced to bias one side – gnarling his teeth at the same tension as his right hand. And even as you place the weight to your right leg, you still turn your head counterclockwise to place your right eye forward. You are very EASY to understand.

Then, when the TIGER hunches back, coiling its thighs just as it was about to lunge.

In contrast, A CROCODILE, a cold reptile, absolutely devoid of emotion – its globular eyes barely peeked over the horizontal sheet of dark swamp water – it sat unmoving, waiting, patiently – and served to describe the difference between YOU and ME.

"YOU MOTHERFUC…" Robert's right shoulder shifted back so slightly.

"Ahhh…" Clark sighed. "There…"

Robert bit down at the exact moment he felt a ravenous hunger instantaneously gut him from the insides just as if his stomach immediately emptied itself and all that was left was a cavity in his midsection the size of a cannonball. He felt light and weak, but…

There it is…

KYOKUGEN.

Robert's right foot, with the same veracity as the hammer of GOD, slammed itself into the short wall Clark leaned on earlier, crashing into it with the impact of a runaway car.

{Omnino dextral. Right handed, right eye dominant and kicks with the right foot.}

Clark's left shoulder skidded on the ground, unable to combat the inertia, his body continued to slide before slamming on a nearby low metal cabinet – he had barely dodged the attack. This is the first step.

Robert's fanged mouth blared open as wide as it could but instead of voice what came out was the bellowing tiger's roar. He turned around, running forward without reservation with no other thought than to crush the blonde haired man's face under his foot.

Clark leaned back onto the steel cabinet and looked outwards with a blank look on his lethargic face.

And as the tiger fearlessly ran forward, the crocodile retreated back into the bog until just the very tips of his eyes were visible in the black tar that surrounded it as the cold blooded reptile cowered back in fear.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Robert…

The tiger's right paw made contact with the dark water. Robert's spine suddenly froze, his entire body began to cramp and his muscles twisted against his will when multiple conflicting commands overcame his body, each instruction vying for dominance. However, Robert instinctively leapt backwards 4 feet, and put both his fists in front of his face.

The crocodile's head was out of the water now, but it stopped, before slinking back into the water with a low, bubbling growl. Clark leaned with his upper torso forward, his left hand braced behind him coiled spring tight on the steel sheet metal and his right hand in a claw relaxed in front of his face.

Clark grinned slightly. The crocodile snarled, the low groan escaping from the spaces at the rearmost part of its jaw, in pace with the mounting tension in Clark's right hand.

{What's wrong?} Clark said to himself… {Oh, can you hear it?}

Clark teetered on his butt, slowly curling his legs across the ground and nonchalantly placed both his heels leisurely under and behind him.

Robert was unsure of what was happening, but he instinctively knew that he had to look straight forward, straight at Clark who bobbed backwards and forward, and though Clark's butt was still firmly planted onto the ground, if Robert dared to look away, even if… moment, and if he blinked even… and ultimately, he would… know what would happen?

Eh?

Robert was sure he did not blink… but…

Clark was gone.

…

"I am talking to HIM, mama." The little :y8irl said, strafing her index finger sidewards, pointing to the empty space next to the blue duck, and in front of the empty void no one but she could see, was a plastic teacup.

Do you know… He tells me that, there are GREAT things.

…

That 'instant' was similar to that undeniable yet perplexing moment, when we first thought we understood what it meant, to fall in love…

Robert felt his shoulders tie into chaotic knots, so small and precise, the threads so thin and tangled, it would have been impossible to unravel now.

{Like a dream, one that mocks you – like one that never ends.}

Robert was sure of it at first but he forced himself to blink quickly when he could not longer bear it, and there was Clark, still in front of him again in the same place Robert's mind left his enemy, slowly supporting himself with both hands and teetered to a stand. Chuckling. As if nothing had happened a split second before.

"Haggghhh…" Clark sighed, rotating his left arm while his right hand massaged his shoulder. After all that, what infuriated Robert the most was the chaos and utter confusion, but Clark refused to say anything. Robert was SURE he saw IT.

…

This story's been going on for 21 years now, and you still don't understand it yet do you?

I bet you are asking yourself… {Did HE fight King, too?} …and just HOW FAR did he go? {You are asking me, Robert Garcia…} Clark mused silently. {Just how FAR did I go? And did I…?} "How far did you go?" Clark murmured… before… before he huffed in silent laughter when he realized… he had begun to talk him himself out loud again, before breaking down into an erratic and uncontrollable, annoying, snickering laughter.

…as he always did.

How far did YOU go, and how far did I go? Which one of us was STRONGER?

In order to be right, you just have to be stronger.

The MERE FACT that you are still standing in front of me… There is no reason to ask why we are fighting each other. Stating the obvious is the hallmark of a FOOL. The mere fact that you are standing before me, makes our intentions clear. UNMISTAKENLY, it must then follow that YOU must have [IT] too. …and you have already fulfilled BOTH conditions.

…

Clark scratched the back of his right fist with his left hand nonchalantly, still sitting. He looked up at Robert, paused then looked back down. What infuriated Robert so much, was the fact that Clark, after all this, said NOTHING. Curling his shoulders up and cracking them to tense then relax, Clark kept to himself and that bastard remained silent as he always did.

I know, I KNOW I saw it, GODDAMNIT, and I KNOW that you KNOW that I know that you know that I know you saw [IT]. In that 'instant'.

{Yet you refuse to even grant me that, don't you…?}

Clark looked up at Robert, perplexed; the expression on his confused face wanted to say, 'why are you looking at me this way?' WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME THIS WAY?

God DAMN you. Don't dim the lights, and pretend that nothing is wrong!

…

Refusing to say anything, Clark continued to grin to reassure himself. {You can't SEE [it] yet. Can you? Boy.} Clark swung his head repeatedly side to side sharply, snap crackle and popping with each swift and distinct movement.

Do YOU still not understand just how THIS game is PLAYED? Do you?

…

Taking one, two, then three steps back, cautiously, unwilling to break his gaze from Clark, as if – if – if he looked away – even for an instant, something would happen. As if his stern gaze upon his enemy was the ONLY thing that kept Clark, a WILD ANIMAL, at bay momentarily.

Can 10 years of imaginary fighting work? Can it? Practicing every day; Just so – I can COPY what happened back then? For just this moment?

Slowly, and cautiously. 10 steps back, approximately 10 feet away, this was all the maddening tension Robert could bear, and all the while, while staring at the blonde haired man, without breaking away, Robert hunched down, splayed his hands wide onto the ground, fingers stretching outwards to support and suspend his so heavy and hungry body in momentary disbelief.

While still on all fours on the ground, Robert's penetrating gaze looked up – like two steel spikes driving themselves into Clark's face, unwilling to let go, the man summoned enough bravery and crawled forward without breaking his vision. Without conscious thought, Robert lifted his left hand up, hunched it forward – in a clawed spidery shape – and when the four fingertips of his left hand touched the ground again, the concrete seemed to melt into a slush before turning the opaque glass floor into a pitch black sludge of dark water. Robert's clawed palm pumped down and like a hydraulic machine before lifting up automatically, balancing himself completely by his fingernails. The rippling circles on the water started small then grew large like concentric echoes in the liquid.

IN ORDER TO EXPERIENCE CONGNITIVE DISSONANCE – BOTH OF THESE [TRUTHS] HAVE TO HOLD EQUAL WEIGHT.

A stuffed toy, a humanoid duck dressed in a peculiar red t-shirt and cap leaned on a pile of bodies stacked nearly 3 feet high.

Children nowadays cannot understand the concept of a blurry video cassette. Robert's silhouette disintegrated then reappeared, clouded by static like an old video cassette, black, white and gray snow masking the low resolution picture. First it was 'GHOSTING' when characters in a movie seen to have a specter overlapping their silhouette. Then the concept of vertical hold – static control, tracking… Anyone born after 1993 probably never understood these concepts, but there was once a time where a clear picture could suddenly become erratic, chaotic, and incomprehensible to human sight, SUDDENLY, seemingly for NO APPARENT REASON. In 1993, logic was a slave to a Video Cassette Recorder.

He launched to his right, Clark's left.

Clark shifted his head, then.

{Augh… the pain, again. How many times, I surely can't do this in constant succession. A hunger overcoming me like a hundred days of famine, my body, my torso feeling as frail and light as Styrofoam… HOW MANY!?} Robert groaned in a silent scream.

Falling back to his heels, Clark, instinctively, he willed his head to the RIGHT even when every fiber of his being defied him, he forced himself to turn the other way even if it was illogical, like continuing to place your hand squarely on a hot stove just as your mind screamed in pain. But nothing was there. To the LEFT.

From the black backdrop that seemed to span forever, a rectangular door slammed open, the bright light from the outside turned Clark's vision a complete stark white. A small hand pushing splayed wide as if giving birth to itself from the darkness.

The FRAME in between an array of three pictures, if taken away and discarded from the sequence of time… If you did that, it would be impossible to…

And behind that third stuffed toy, was a pile of cotton filled bodies stacked nearly 3 feet high.

"The third…" Clark uttered, though now, from a concrete stoic expression, he cracked a wide, warm, orgasmic smile... {I… I am… not insane…} His stammering voice cracked in a whimper. HE smiled so brightly – like the rapture, liberated from a LIFETIME of PAIN!

…

…and when the four fingertips of Robert's left hand touched the ground again, the concrete seemed to melt into a slush before turning the opaque glass floor into a pitch black sludge of dark water.

…

It had become ever so clear, the story had changed from what it was so many years ago, and NOW, two men met each other, remained in constant company for just a little bit longer. But if you stay with it, it shows how different this story is. NOW, two men have come to KILL each other without even a shred of remorse. Because they were slave to the fiery bigotry of their true determination.

What is the opposite of BIGOTRY? If you firmly believe your convictions are true and are JUST – and if you are willing to complete your cause without regret? Can you truly, without a shred of doubt, reasonably apply an evil motive arbitrarily to your enemy without understanding their reasoning, without, at the same time, questioning the virtue of your own?

If you are unwilling to believe your cause could be wrong, then is it not plausible that your foe believes the same? So at this impasse, the things that separate both… is REASON – and the other is STRENGTH. …and this is the cause of chaos and conflict that allows the Earth to rotate and revolve in perpetual motion.

If so, is not the opposite of BIGOTRY, could it be APATHY? As you stay idle while evil devours the entire world. As a man and a woman, fated to fall in love – these two squares cannot exist without an equal and opposite reaction!

{…my body, my torso feeling as frail and light as Styrofoam…} BUT IN EXCHANGE!

"The THREE (3) of NINE (9)!"

SO, if both of you stand firm in your convictions, is it not reasonable to believe that either, or NEITHER of your justices are CORRECT? One man simply wanted to bring everyone together… yet the other, wanted to be left alone. In the end, they both wanted nothing more, than PEACE.

…

…if so, are we at least at one point of our lives, all bigots instead?

…

We are going to have to fight, and one thing stays constant, my friend… Just as SHE UNDERSTOOD. In order to be [CORRECT]…

"Why can't you understand?" The Price asked… "It is so, SO, so, so, very easy."

We simply have to prove that MY ENEMY is WRONG!

Then we can determine – if his bigotry, or if mine, is the more righteous one.

…

Clark's right foot stepped back – he expected hard ground, but instead the concrete melted into a dark liquid. Concentric circles blared outwards from Clark's heel.

DARK squares and, LIGHT squares, like an illuminated checkerboard underneath their feet, each opposing quadrilateral GLEAMED brightly one by one, back to front then diagonally spreading outwards like a virus to finally infect the entire world.

The upper part of Clark's skull shifted to the RIGHT. Perfectly shearing his head at the jawline. His cranium sloughed like a sand castle perfectly bisected when his jaw remained trapped in the jagged clutches of inertia.

CERTAINLY. I can do it too.

Robert's kick drove itself deep into Clark's brain like a missile.

The END of La Bizarre Love Pentagon – part 46.

IF I CLOSE MY EYES, EVERTHING STAYS THE SAME – JUST LIKE THE GOOD OLD DAYS… LIKE THE OLD DAYS. IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL. BUT IN THE NEXT FRAME…

If I close my eyes. I SEE you… because, you were the one, who LED me HERE.

Clark's body wobbled back. The feeling when his head was instantaneously decapitated from his neck, his mind was rendered to indistinguishable gray static, like a television at 3 A.M. in 1984.

IF I CLOSE MY EYES, WILL ALL THE THINGS STAY THE SAME? WILL IT BRING THE SUNLIGHT?

One, two and three – four and five Clark stumbled backwards instinctively when he barely, desperately held steadfast to consciousness after the massive attack.

"Yes… No." the child shook her head slowly, "No." In between responses she would look up to her mother then back forward with focused intent.

Robert pulled his right arm backwards as far as it would go just the second before he launched himself up and forward bicycling two feet in the air.

You LED me here. And without you. I would still be living a life of meaningless apathy.

LIKE THE OLD DAYS.

Discarded by the morality of the world, Evil men, have no choice, but to rely on an Evil savior.

The taste in Clark's mouth was soft and sweet now. After all this, he began to question himself. After all this pain and after all this suffering – it was just so easy to GIVE UP. The horizon in front of his face was a soft, plush, off white colour. Both his hands widely splayed in front of his face.

I've felt this before. I did. Just when all hope had abandoned me – the light squares enveloped the world in white. A. What was the meaning of it all? Was it true? Is life a tale told by idiots?

Do you see… me? Did I do RIGHT by you? Sobbing just as HE was about to crumble to dust.

"Yes."

Did I choose wrongly after all, this time?

"No."

I was told Shakespeare said, "Life is a tale told by a FOOL, full of noise and the sound of fury, signifying nothing." Will no one acknowledge me – just as I welcome the sweet solace of DEATH?

…

"Yes… No." the child bobbed her face, but then shook her head slowly, "No." In between responses she would look up to her mother then back forward with focused intent.

…

"Do I have to give up now… my friend?" Clark asked before his voice and his silhouette faded into a powdery chalk white. WAS I… WRONG? …my King…

"No."

Who are you talking to?

NO.

King took the blonde haired boy's arms by the wrist and slowly raised both into the air over her face. "NO." DEFEND IT. TAKE IT. TAKE WHAT IS YOURS. She said… TAKE…

…

Each and everyone of us – those who are truly intellectually honest, has at least once in their sad sad life, experienced this at least once. The concept of cognitive dissonance. When a man crosses paths with two logically plausible, two ultimate truths, both with equally strengthened convictions, and he must decide which one should be real…

…

With enough conviction – when a man FIRMLY believes he can save the world, by laws of thermodynamics – he can turn liquid into solid. Because both cannot exist at once.

…

Even when he could no longer think straight, and when Clark stumbled back, left and right – backwards his feet had to retreat in rapid succession in order to keep him standing upright, his right heel hit the ground hard and FIRMLY. The dark liquid instantaneously transformed to solid, buttressing Clark's rearward stumbling retreat.

A small boy behind Robert hid meekly behind the dark door, both his hands clutching tightly onto it – and while he kept himself hidden from view as much as he could, the bright light radiated outwards. The shining glow made it even more difficult to see but even as he did, Clark could see slightly the THING grin from ear to ear behind the protection of the darkness.

The THIRD exists. THEREFORE. Your pain was not in vain, after all… my friend.

...TAKE. TAKE BACK WHAT IS, OURS!

A basic defense, locking his left elbow, Clark rotated his left arm in an L shape elementary block, diverting Robert's right hook from impacting his face.

…

IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL.

[DEFENSE OF EIGHT.] The figure 8 defense.

Arcing his left arm wide counterclockwise, Clark met Robert's right hook head on!

Chapter 132: the Strange Animals

Clark rotated his left arm, then curling his right, gripped Robert's right hook, tossing it upwards and aside. Again and again as he had practiced it until it became second nature Clark's left palm slapped the left hook outwards easily – at the same time bobbing and weaving his shoulders round and round. Clark's body froze in mid sequence. A low bass tone hitting the back of his head like a sledgehammer, turning the silhouette of his body into a ghost, fading into a translucent as its echo faded outwards.

A hard slam Robert's right punch rocked Clark's brain even when he was able to intercept the attack by putting his hand across and over his left shoulder. The IMPACT was hard and TREMENDOUS. Even if it was a punch Robert's attack felt JUST like King's.

The curling coils at the base of Clark's spine torqued to its limits and indeed it was so painful. But, at this point, the concept of human weakness seemed so irrelevant now. Ofcourse.

Ofcourse!

Did I not fight GOD almost a decade ago, and stand before you now? Stating the obvious is the hallmark of a fool. If I stand before you now, does not make my intentions clear?

It is not DESTINY that binds us, but it is FATE that brings us together.

As Clark's right hand blocked the attack the last minute by putting his appendage over his left ear, the next motion was instant – Clark rotated the back of his left wrist under and over his right – like a windshield wiper, slapped the next attack upwards and outwards…

…Just like the old days.

Reaching upward to heaven with his left arm at the end of its arc, Clark grabbed his left shoulder at the joint completely with his right arm. All the time, not taking his eyes off of his sworn, visceral, natural foe. YOU ARE MY ENEMY. And only when we come face to face with what we oppose, are we [RIGHTEOUS], until then, our lives are plain, our lives are bland, and without meaning.

…

Can you see it? ANSWER ME! "CAN YOU SEE IT, OR CAN YOU NOT!?"

Both our existences give reason to cognitive dissonance. If I see the THIRD, and if you acknowledge the SECOND… If you have a CHILDREN, if you see mine, and I see yours… then all this brings clarity to our purpose, then the World can no longer call us [insane].

It is not DESTINY that binds us, but it is FATE that brings us together; and only YOU and I are allowed to exist HERE in this dark world, to rules the rest of the world are not subject to... because we are GREAT indeed!