Life. Life never changes. It's always the same. People are born. People die. This same cycle, ever constant, ever wavering, yet never changing. We humans try to defy this cycle, seeking out science, or religion, to find some way to keep ourselves afloat long after we are due.

And yet, for every advancement we make in prolonging life, we are humbled and reminded that humans are fragile beings. How we ever managed to survive this long as a species is something that has bugged me for a long while now.

Perhaps the maniacal among us, the ones who bring so much chaos and discord, are nature's way of slowing us down; her ways continue to elude us, and yet still we try. We try and try. But is it worth it? Many among us would say yes. A select few would say no. A smaller percentage would say there is some easier way. As for myself, I refuse to say. I'm still searching.

Once humanity reaches its breaking point, the point where True Chaos shall reign, and nothing will be left but charred remains, I shall remain. Still searching, yet finding nothing.


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Storm jogged along happily, the rest of his team in pursuit. Gilda glides along gracefully, ever vigilant. Dashie ran back and forth, curious and cheery. Creatures skittered about, unmindful of the strangers in their midst.

After quickly passing through Softwind, the ragtag group came upon a blooming forest of Ash and Trees. Dashie seemed excited, as he noticed the many fire types in the area. Gilda was rather unconcerned, instead focusing on searching for food and water.