Reincarnated in a depressing erotic world but living a normal life (right?) The Echo of Existence and the Dance of Scraps

"... Right... I... still hadn't given him... a na..."

The annihilation was not an end, but a process of absolute purification.

The attack Mireya had unleashed acted as a force of origin, a primordial frequency that did not only destroy, but unraveled the complexity of existence.

"A doll... no, that is... a baby...?"

Under his influence, the Titan’s monstrosity crumbled, peeling away layer after layer of corrupted biomass until only the barest and most original spark of his being remained.

In that state of forced purity, on the brink of total extinction, the small creature found its last sustenance.

By drinking Mireya’s blood, charged with an unimaginable energy linked to his own soul, a phenonon of taphysical attraction occurred.

"... Still... can... move... myself..."

It was not simply the nourishnt of a dying being; it was a transfer of information and essence.

(...Thump... Thump... Thump...)

While the physical body of the locust dissolved into filants of golden light, the residues of its consciousness, now cleansed of the swarm's rage, were drawn by the flow of blood toward its source.

"The lights... turn off the damn lights... Who is screaming? Is it ... is it ?"

Resulting thus, due to the nature of Mireya's own soul, in a silent assimilation within the deepest strata of his being.

(...Thump... Thump...)

The fragnts of the will of that being who had fought so hard to live were not lost in the void, but were gently consud and integrated as a latent echo.

Nevertheless, ignorant of all this and ignoring Echidna's worried warnings, Mireya tried to rest his hands on the crystallized ground, even as his arms trembled like reeds under a storm.

"I have to... get up. The ground... is moving. I am not tired... I said I am not tired!"

At the sa ti, in the deepest part of his being, in an infinite space where the core of his soul resides, a phenonon never seen before was occurring.

All while Echidna, whose voice resonated with an unusual urgency in his mind, implored him to stop in a tone full of reproach.

(¡...Thump... Thump...!)

However, Mireya did not listen.

"Cold... it's so cold... but my blood... my blood is burning... Enough!"

His eyes, still a prismatic white, were fixed on the void while he regained strength, pushing his body further and further beyond its limit.

(Plink~)

Two drops of existence t in the void.

(Vrrruuumm...)

The first was a faint will, almost invisible, the distilled residue of the little locust that had drunk from his blood; a spark that, despite its fragility, carried the desire to live.

(Shhhv)

The second was the faint will of a small residual consciousness that only knew the vacuum of non-existence.

(plink... ♩ vurr-swii... ♫ vash-a-vash... ♬ vurr-swii... 🎶)

Upon touching, there was no violence, and instead of an impact, a dance ensued.

(plink... ♩ vshhh-uuu... ♫ vshhh-aaa... ♬ vshhh-uuu... 🎶)

Both forms of existence began to orbit each other, liquefying at the edges as the contact unraveled their individual limits.

(...plink... ♩ vshhh-liii... ♫ vshhh-aaa... ♬ vshhh-liii... 🎶)

They intertwined in a whirlpool of infinite softness, a dance in which the fragility of the small life filtered into the imnsity, joining both the desperation and mutual hope of both.

(...plink... ♩ vshhh-uuu... ♫ vshhh-aaa... ♬ vshhh-uuu... 🎶)

The two essences rged, spinning in a spiral that began to tint the void with colors that did not belong to earthly light: iridescences born from the clash between the ancient and the newborn.

(...plink... ♩ vshhh-uuu... 🌀 ♫ vshhh-aaa-ooo... ✨ ♬ vshhh-uuu... 🌌 🎶)

The space, once black and mute, filled with a liquid glow as the two drops beca one.

(...plink... ♩ vshhh-uuu... 🌀 ♫ vshhh-aaa-ooo... ✨ ♬ vshhh-uuu-iii... 🌌 ∮ vshhh-aaa-eee-uuu... 🌊 ♮ vshhh-ooo-aaa... 🎶)

It was a perfect harmony, an integration where every trace of pain transford into a new vibration, flooding the void with a tide of boreal colors that pulsed to the rhythm of a new heart.

(...plink... ♩ vshhh-uuu... 🌀 ♫ vshhh-aaa-ooo... ✨ ♬ vshhh-uuu-iii... 🌌 ∮ vshhh-aaa-eee-uuu... 🌊 ♮ vshhh-ooo-aaa... 🎶 ♩ vshhh... vshhh... vshhh... 𝄀 ... 𝄂)

Upon joining completely, the two drops of existence ceased to be spheres to beco a single pulsing point of light, and from that center, the internal universe they had ford began to contract.

(...plink... vshhh-uuu~♩... vshhh-aaa-ooo~♫... vshhh-eee-iii~♬... vshhh-aaa-eee-uuu~∮... vshhh-ooo-aaa~♮... vshhh-iii-eee~♭... vshhh~𝄀... vshhh~𝄂)

The fluctuating veils, the stellar glimrs, and the liquid iridescences that had filled the nothingness began to collapse upon themselves.

(...vshhh-uuu~♩... vshhh-aaa-eee~♫... vshhh-iii-ooo~♬... vshhh-eee-aaa~∮... vshhh-uuu-ooo~♮... vshhh-aaa-iii~♭... vshhh-eee-uuu~♯... vshhh~𝄀... vshhh~𝄂)

It was not a violent implosion, but a majestic withdrawal, like a cosmos folding its galaxies in an act of silent devotion. All that light, all that energy, concentrated at the point of fusion, adopting a new form with a slowness that defied perception.

(...♫..♫..♩..♩..♭..♫..♫..♩..♩..♯...)

From that crucible of existences, from the harmony forged between the vestige and the essence to the sound of a lody that blessed the mont, a figure erged.

(...♫..♩..♩..𝅗𝅥...♫..♩..♩..𝅗𝅥...♫..♩..♩..♩..♩..♩..♩...)

It was not made of flesh or bone, nor even of solid light, but a humanoid form composed of the very substance of will.

(🎶 ~ ♩... ♫... ♭... ♪... ~ 🎶)

The lody began with a solitary note, a crystal echo that vibrated at the base, searing itself into the essence of the newborn existence that adopted feminine features to the beat.

(🎶 ~ ♯ ♬... ♩ ♫... ♭... ♪ ~ 🎶)

As the chords beca more complex and deep, the feminine silhouette began a slow movent, a hypnotic spin in the middle of nowhere. With each asure, the boreal light that had contracted not only illuminated, but materialized. Scraps of an infinite fabric, etched with patterns of constellations and shadows, began to dance around the figure.

(🎶 ~ ♯... ♬... ♩... ♫... ♭... ♪... ♯... ♬ ~ 🎶)

One could perceive how threads of golden light, fine as the hair of an angel, pierced through the scraps of galactic silk, joining them to the body of the silhouette. The lody guided the invisible needle: in monts of low notes, the fabric adjusted softly over the long and delicate arms; in the crescendos, the doll's dress expanded in layers of ruffles and lace made of pure assimilated will.

(🎶 ~ ¡¡ ♯ ♬ ♩ ♫ !! ~ 🎶)

Thus finally the lody, which until then had been a process of construction and tension, rose in a final crescendo, bursting into a final chord that stabilized existence itself within the void.

Suddenly, the pressure of the threads and the darkness disappeared.

The doll fell, but not into the void, but toward a warm softness, landing confused in a place that defied all logic: an infinite field of candy flowers.

The landscape was a hallucination of sweet textures. Beneath her, the ground was not earth, but a fine cocoa powder that cushioned her fall. Around her, flowers rose with petals of blown sugar, so delicate they tinkled like crystal bells with the touch of the breeze. The stems, made of flexible licorice, dripped a thick honey nectar that sparkled under a cream-colored sky.

{¿?}

The doll, lost in her new form of scraps and lace, observed the horizon of marzipan hills with absolute purity, without understanding who she was or where she was.

It was then that a shadow lood over her.

A feminine figure of unreachable presence, whose form was so vast that the doll's senses could not process it, leaned in.

With a tenderness that seed to warm the threads of her being, the woman extended a hand and rubbed her head gently.

But as soon as the wish was uttered, the woman began to fade.

(Ffffffhuuuu~)

Leaving behind a chocolate wind, bitter and dense, that swept away the sugar petals and the figure, dispersing her into nothingness...