Its my pleasure to recount what I witnessed in one of my strange, vivid dreams, o ye Great lords behind the fog.

  It happened after I finished reading the last volume of the craziest book I ever read, and mind you, I can bet my live savings that no man, dead or alive has read half of what I have ever read.

  Anyways... I placed the last volume of that book on the sixth volume, stacking them all up from volume one, and I was smiling like a fool, happy and content, because I get to see the end of the almost unintelligible, but richest book there will ever be.

  However, like usual—I really need to find out where that annoying wind blows from. Anyway, a strange cool wind I am very familiar with filled my large room and lulled me to sleep like a baby, making my head as usual fall on the table with a bang—Thank heavens I have layered my table top with a quilt, or else I would have woken up with a swollen face like in the past.

  Anyways... Immediately in the next moment after I sensed the annoying chill—though all I saw was darkness—I felt myself falling through a tunnel I could swear has no bottom; I hear barely intelligible voices, I still to this day, think were coming from haters cursing at me and my benefactors hailing me, both group shouting too much; I smell antiseptics; and I felt touches—whoever touched my junk, just you wait, I have marked your scent.

  Anyways... After what seems to be both a moment and Infinity—you: what do you mean? Me: Don't ask me, I just knew it—Anyways, I felt like I broke through a thin wet membrane, and right in that instant, my consciousness fill the entirety of a world parallel to mine, and I instantly know it was a parallel world, since I could hear, see, taste, feel, and smell anything anywhere in that world, maybe I can do more.

  Huh? Who is that guy?

  Masa Ed, I just know his name and he is the first person I focused my gaze on in this world, and he is also the protagonist of my strange experience about to unfold.

  ***

  "'We struggle not to struggle.' Doesn't that reflect the life of every man."

  This person talking to himself—though I don't think he has mental issues—is Masa Ed, a man that looks to be in his mid thirties; not particularly good looking, maybe average; a man with a kinky, short black hair and dark brown eyes, someone that looks a little below typical, if you know what I mean. He is Sunbathing, reclining on a lounger placed in front of his house that is at the center of a large field that is at the center of a crazy large banana plantation.

  Anyways... What's that in his hand? Oh! Its my book, he is also reading this, maybe that is why he look like an ascetic with that bushy beard and ragged clothes on him.

  However, while I watched him, analyzing him like a leopard analyze its prey, I felt like he saw me—I felt his eyes on me, which shouldn't be, because I am an omnipresent being in this world; I don't have a body and I can't interact with anything, and I know this for sure. So what is he looking at exactly?

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Suddenly, in the next instant, just as I confirmed he saw me, or what I looked like to him in this world; a pillar of white flame dramatically descended from beyond onto him, instantly engulfing the entirety of the island Masa Ed is on, reaching the heavens.

  Did I caused it? Did I kill him? Nah, that can't be, I know for certain I can only witness and not participate in this world.

  However, just after the flames descended, several inexplicable and undescribable presence appeared from nowhere, surround the island and starts communicating with strange words I can barely make out and kind of barely understand with one another.

  There conversation goes like this:

  "... Is it first?"

  "... I don't know. It is second."

  "Tarata, its a newbie..."

  "Its badly... It must be a creation of desperation."

  "Just shut up... If it is... let's see yours."

  "It has potential though."

  Whatever they are talking about.

  About five minutes later, while the white flame linking the island to the heavens rages on, a flying ship with the likeness of the Mayflower pulled up close to it, and standing on the edge of its bow as it fly closer, is an incredibly handsome tall man with green hair, dressed in a cream colored complete suit with an overcoat that has fur collar, and putting on a weird glasses, looking at the conflagration that nobody knows its cause and when it will die out.

  Anyways, This tall man, looking kind of pleased with the conflagration, savoring its sight, brought out a cigarette packet from his front pocket, took out one and put it in his mouth, and has he returned the packet, the cigarette in his mouth starts burning mysteriously without fire from somewhere, just like he performed magic.

  Meanwhile, coming from behind him, a uniquely beautiful young woman dressed in a black and white Victoria maid uniform—wow! Pale skin, her hair is platinum blonde and her eyes are icy purple, what an exotic beauty, she is curvy too by the ways. Anyways, she stopped near him, standing on the deck, not climbing the edge, and said, "Sir peter, I received a message. The director said we should be on standby and not get too close."

  "Hmm–mm–mmm~ Let's love lead~ lets love lead~ We are one~ ...."

  Like this tall handsome man, Sir peter didn't hear the uniquely beautiful young woman, he starts singing —his singing is world class though. What an enviable bastard. Anyways for about a minute; during which the young woman wait for a reply, this sir Peter was busy singing and humming, until he was probably tired I think.

  Then he replied:

  "My sweet canary, do you think a sane man will get close to that?"

  The young woman shook her head, "Absolutely not, lord Peter, but you are not sane."

  Her pleasant voice really sounded like a canary though.

  However, sir Peter, smiled and adjust his weird glasses that has one eye black and the other transparent, revealing his green eyes.

  "Okay, White Sugar. You see that fire over there is not something even an elder will dare gets close to, and as you can see, I am on the ship, I am not the one in control of its movement..."

  "But, you can fly inside it, sir Peter." The young woman interjected.

  "Ah, sweet Sugar, you see, I am just a small figure, how can I fly. Flying is for big men."

  Sir peter protested. He doesn't sound convincing in the least—maybe he can really fly, who knows.

  "Sir peter, you may not know... No one absolutely thinks you are a small figure; your attempt at coming off as one, only makes people think you might be more than what they estimated."

  "Sweet sugar, don't flatter me. Its just some small tricks, how can I a small person have a secret identity?"

  Shameless sir Peter replied the young woman, scratching his hair styled slicked back, doing like he is embarrassed.

  "No one said you have a secret identity, sir peter. Or do you have one?"

  "Nay nay. Secret I identity, me..."

  Sir peter removed the smoky cigarette from his mouth, acting like someone scared.

  "Sir peter, something is going on with that flame."

  The young beautiful woman—White Sugar is her name by the way—called attention to the white flame that seems to have started shrinking in width, slowly revealing an abyss.