The Holder of Realization

Only after delving through the madness of your own self, will you be ready to find this Object. This Object has driven all, man, woman, and other beings, to their own doom. It was fate, for this Holder has decided the way you live your pathetic life ever since the day you were born.

If the Sunday sun caresses your cheek with a ray of absolution, be prepared. No, you cannot find this Object on purpose, there is no way you may start this challenge by your pitiful self. A being at your level simply does not have the right to be that powerful. Only after reading this tale, will you ever be accepted. Whether He lets you, is up to Him.

Once the sun kisses your skin, you must lift your head to the heavens. Only if you truly understand yourself, if you truly realize your significance, will you ever be dragged down into the earth below you. If you failed to meet this simple requirement, you will be lifted farther and farther to the heavens, and soon, you will roast in the heat of the sun, without a puff of air to breathe, for all eternity.

By your ankles, you will be pulled, ferocious beasts waiting to consume you if you ever open your eyes. These beasts are, in fact, the very guardians of the Holder of the Note, but, there is a reason you will never see them again if you want through the challenge. If you open your eyes, a horrible death will await, starting with the removal of your own eyes. They will still see, but you will only see the horror of your own reality, whilst your body is left to rot.

Soon, you will slow your descent, as you are slipping through a substance unknown to man. This substance you cannot feel, as it is not physical, but rather, it is the embodiment of our own lust for perfection. And it is thick. If mankind has failed to revert to the golden times by the year of the Gathering, then, this substance will be completely solid, and you will be stuck inside the evil of humans until They have all been gathered.

If you make it through, after what may have been years of your time, you will land softly, in a broken-down arena. Facing you, with an expression of evil plastered onto its face, is none other than your soul. A dagger of pure ivory will be in its hand. Pick up the dagger next to you, made exactly the same, but with ebony, and prepare. These blades will never break, and they shall never dull. If your fight happens to last an eternity, there will be no need for maintenance.

This part of your being will be exactly as skilled as you are. It shares the same history, tactics, strength, and thoughts as you. This is because, simply, it is you. It will not copy your moves, but it will react to you as you would to any other attacker. They will employ the same fighting style as you, the same wit, flaws, strategies. Should you drop the knife, pray that you are a just person. If so, your clone will drop its weapon, and you will both fight hand to hand.

The only way you will win, is if you truly realize that you are the real one, and it is the copy. This, as innocent as it seems, will be impossible for the normal mortal, as this clone will act exactly as you do, speak of the same things you do, it is an exact copy. If there is a pause in the fighting, it will spark up conversations about its past, which is yours. You will question reality, but know that it is yours. Realize this, and you will win. There is no other outcome to this fight.

If, however, it happens to realize this before you, then it is you who is the clone, and your fate has been sealed. You will die, and suffer in the realm of illusion. This cannot be described by words, or feelings, as it is the very definition of nothing.

If your clone realizes it is truly false, it will fall limp, writhing in the fact that it is truly nothing. This is a pain, that if you do not act soon, will be passed onto you. No matter what any Holder can throw at you, no matter any failure in any task they give to you, this pain is the worst. No other will ever match it. Even He fears this pain, as it is great enough to consume him, as well.

You will cry for your soul, as it cries for you. It will speak its final words, which will bury themselves deep into your heart. Pick up its dagger, and kiss your soul. Drive the dagger, up to the guard, into its heart. The pain will be yours, as you are destroying your own soul. If you should hesitate at this pain, you will die. There is no other choice. If you should kill your own soul, you will be lifted toward the heavens.

Once you land, kneel, and bow your head. You cannot look directly at the being in front of you, as he is god. You can ask him one question, and one only. Ask of him, "When will we realize it was us?" He will sigh, and tell you the true meaning of the Objects, and he will tell you who He is. If you are not the Chosen Seeker, you will die.

After this tale, you will feel the grace of his touch, and from your shoulder, a single wing will grow, its beauty rivaling that of the archangels. You will awake, standing where you once were, the ebony dagger in its sheath, the wing cooling in the breeze.

The wing, and the dagger, are the final steps to gain Object 355, True Realization. If you wish to keep this godly gift, you will be cherished for ages and will live until the Gathering, where you will truly suffer. But, you are the Chosen Seeker, after all. Cut off the wing with the dagger, and you will realize who He really is.

Your fall from grace will be your rise to insanity.