"...I don't understand what shadow you are talking about."
"You certainly understand that your poetry is just like you, full of straightforward expression and lacking the necessary restraint," Isis looked directly at Letes. "Your eyes speak, and they don't lie."
"How...how did you know..."
"It spoke to me, too," Isis whispered, "but I refused."
"......"
The calmness on Lights' face was completely shattered, like a mask shattered by a huge hammer. The lines on his cheeks were hideously sunken, as if blood was about to ooze out.
The great artist took two steps back, muttering softly as he did so:
"No...no...you are too stupid...you are too stupid..."
"I create because I love it and I want to live a peaceful life..." Isis whispered. "Poets are spirits who wander freely amidst the hustle and bustle of life. They shouldn't be coerced by so-called great achievements."
"You are shaking me..." Leitus murmured, "No... You are shaking me..."
"Whatever was in your poetry, it affected everyone," Isis said, approaching Letos. "I can feel it... because the shadow spoke to me, too. I can feel the power in the vibrations of the syllables..."
"No... capturing them... is my talent..."
"...You will destroy the development of poetry, and all poets will be homeless!" Isis's voice rose several degrees. "Those talented people sleep on the streets, and you stand here, tainting those true talents with pollution that doesn't belong to you..."
“They are too weak...! They are too weak...!”
"Stop!" Isis yelled, "That shadow wants to use you!"
"..."
Lights suddenly stood still like a stone statue, his face looking like a stone statue, his eyes suddenly becoming empty.
"Use... me...?"
He suddenly recalled the eight years when he had neglected sleep and food.
For eight years, he stayed in the room, creating crazily.
Initially, his parents still advised him to find a job at the docks because the family expenses could not keep up, but he did not listen at all, as if he had filtered out all things other than creation.
Gradually, the parents' voices became quieter and quieter...
...Until one day, someone broke in and told him that his parents were dead.
Only then did he turn around and find that his parents were dead behind him, in the corner of the house.
How did they die? From hunger and cold? From plague?
Leites wasn't sure.
He seems never to get tired, never to be hungry, and never to get sick. As long as he is creating, he is like a god, as if he is immune to all poisons.
At that time, he only had creation in his mind, but now... he suddenly realized that it was not just his own strength.
"...He said he would enable me to create something..." Lights murmured, "a great achievement?"
"Look at the price!" Isis cried. "Look at everything you've lost! Your parents! Eight years of your life!"
"I...lost..."
Lights lowered his head, a light flickering in his eyes.
"Have I really made those poets unemployed?" He looked up again.
"Yes..." Isis took a breath and calmed down a little, "Those residents... they are not normal... they only sing your poems..."
"this..."
Letes held his head, his eyes trembling.
He suddenly remembered a night many years ago when he was still young and his mother took him to the night market.
That was the first time that Letes heard poetry - on the stage with flickering candles, poets and musicians recited poetry, and the melodious melody passed through the streets and alleys of Garo City and entered the heart of a young man.
"I want to be a poet and sing hymns in the future!" Letts remembered that he swore this to his mother.
And now, he stood on the sky garden, the most famous poetry artist in the whole of New Galo!
But his mother could no longer see him.
"..."
Lights rubbed his eyes, and the light and shadow of that night seemed to flash before his eyes again.
Ah... a country with only one poet... can it be called a country of poetry?
"...Did I...do something wrong?"
Letes raised his head and looked at Isis sitting opposite him, the corners of his mouth trembling.
Isis was stunned for a moment, then nodded slightly:
"...yes."
"But you had no choice. I know you must have been desperate at that time, desperate that you weren't recognized, desperate that you were drifting further and further away from your dreams..."
"But...making a deal with the devil...is bound to backfire..."
Isis took a deep breath, her eyes determined:
"You must stop creating in the way the devil taught you..."
"...But, then I..." Letes was a little confused.
"I can help you," Isis said earnestly. "True art never comes from a deal with the devil, but from your heart."
"my heart..."
Letes gently touched his heart, his eyes blank.
Yes...his heart...
During those days when he worked day and night to create, how long had it been since he listened to his own true heart?
What exactly did he want to depict? What did he want to create?
"..."
Leites closed his eyes and clenched his fists, as if he was making a very difficult decision.
After a long time, he opened his eyes, gritted his teeth and nodded:
"You're right, I...I was wrong."
"You still have a chance to change..." A smile spread across Isis's face, "I can help you."
Looking at the girl's smile, something seemed to melt deep in Lights' eyes.
A smile appeared on his face again, with the corners of his mouth slightly raised:
"Thank you for your willingness to help me, Isis."
"That's what I should do..."
"...Then help me once, and for the last time."
The next second, Letts grabbed the girl's shoulders and shoved her towards the fence that bordered the garden.
The moment her body jumped over the fence, a look of astonishment crossed Isis's face.
At that moment, time seemed to be slowed down countless times. In that almost eternal time, she stared at Lights's hideous face, and saw that there seemed to be darkness in his eyes.
In the depths of that pitch-black mass, another pair of eyes were outlined——
"Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah!"
Isis fell from the edge of the garden, and Letes heard her body fall and roll repeatedly on the tilted structure of the "Hanging Gardens", accompanied by the sound of flesh and blood falling apart.
He raised his head, covered his face with his hands, and his body trembled slightly.
“…Wuwuwu…Hehehe…Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!”
Letes Agomont laughed like a madman, opened his arms and embraced the blue sky of Singara, his body shaking wildly.
"I will create great things!!!" Letts roared. "Great things! Mom! Did you see it?"
"They all looked down on me, but now, I am the only one who is still alive!"
"..."
Leites clutched the garden fence, laughing like a madman, his limbs twisted like a demon.
What he didn't notice was that in the flowers behind him, a jackal-like shadow was watching this moment.
......
Isis had no idea how long she had been missing.
The falling seemed to have never stopped, yet also seemed to have never begun.
She could feel herself disintegrating, and it hurt a little when her arms were torn off, but once her limbs were gone, she felt no pain at all.
She fell silently in the darkness, covered in blood, looking up at the black sky.
Gradually, the sky seemed to take shape, and a pair of eyes were watching her.
"...You want to live in peace, don't you?"
"...your wish has come true..."
Steady, eternal fall.
Isis was trapped in that darkness forever, living "safely" forever.
Occasionally, she could feel herself talking to someone, pointing at something under the scorching sun, and feeling her hands touching mechanical creations.
It looked like her, but not like her.
Gradually, even as she fell in darkness, she learned her new name: "Architect."
Her gift was ultimately used in another way, and she was forever trapped in the moment she fell over the garden fence.
Such a stable life.
"..."
In the darkness, Xing Mo looked at the bloody girl in the distance with a complicated expression.
She had never imagined that this story would be such a cruel tragedy.
"She's so stupid," Xingmo whispered. "Now that she's aware of the contamination in Letes' poetry, she could have told these secrets to others first and used the power of public opinion to put pressure on them."
Aurora chuckled:
"She softened because she knew Leites and knew that poor fellow had given everything for his art."
The little evil god's face did not show the same pity as Xing Mo's, but an expression of "pitying his misfortune and being angry at his lack of resistance".
"If she can't even protect herself, how can she speak for those who are polluted? How can she speak for those unemployed poets?"
Xingmo sighed:
"Even so, maybe...it's just because she knows how hard it is to be abandoned."
Xingmo remembered the rain when Isis was a child.
"Leites and she are similar people, but they have embarked on completely different paths."
"You shouldn't touch things that don't belong to you," Aurora puffed out her cheeks slightly. "From this point of view, I think Miss Isis is much better than Letes!"
"But if people are truly in despair, how many people can resist the devil's temptation?" Xing Mo murmured.
She thought of Mentor Lucius, Miriam, and the October rain.
Even the most upright people cannot prevent the devil from taking advantage of their weaknesses.
Everyone has their own weaknesses. Even someone as upright as Mentor Lucius has Miriam.
So what is my weakness...?
Subconsciously, Xingmo looked at Aurora beside him.
Then, she realized that Aurora was also looking at her.
The two looked at each other briefly, then let out a sigh:
"It's time to set Miss Isis free. Her talent shouldn't be used like this." Xingmo said.
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