Things are not the same, and will never be the same again.
The voices keep speaking, they speak words I cannot hear but appear clear in my eyes.
Words of loving hate, words of foolish wisdom, words of chilling heat.
Words of reclining advances, words of living death, words of noisy silence.
Words of dark light, words of painful healing, words of sacrilegious devotion.
Words of a filling void, words of lying truth, and most of all, words of pure madness.
And now, sights appear before me, these sights barely show up in my eyes but resonate their presence into my ears.
Sights of counterclockwise clocks, sights of explosions that implode, sights of serpents with legs, sights of flames that freeze.
Sights of isotropic asymmetry, sights of rising descents, sights of bright shadows, sights of monochrome rainbows.
Sights of the night in day, sights of the day in night, sights of an eclipse that reveals, sights of a dawn of darkness.
Sights of peaceful wars, sights of bloodless carnage, sights of anarchy under a single rule, and most of all, sights of the presence of madness itself.
And now, I can sense things that brush against my skin, but I can only feel them deep within.
The sense of chilling burns, the sense of smooth roughness, the sense of hard softness.
The sense of shattering resilience, the sense of large pinpricks, the sense of solid fluidity.
The sense of a windless breeze, the sense of a harmful embrace, the sense of blunting sharpness.
The sense of soothing pain, the sense of comforting torment, the sense of weakening strength, and most of all, the sense of madness incarnate.
And now, I feel the monsters deep within me begin to express themselves, making me sense their presence inside-out.
The entertainment from boredom, the cheerful sorrow, the wrath of calmness.
The greed of charity, the lust of chastity, the sloth of diligence.
The envy of compersion, the gluttony of self-control, the pride of humility.
The despair of hope, the hatred of love, the damnation of salvation, and finally, the madness of my sanity.
But never will I be the victim again, things will never change again... For here I am now, the madness itself.
The madness that plagues all things, the madness that lays work to waste.
The madness that gives fear to all bravery, shriveling all that grows.
The madness that constricts freedom, setting all that is organized in chaos.
The madness that stops all that move, rulings over all that rules before me.
[[ Subject 109 : Zexal :: Condition-Containment Breach]]
The Ex Legion: A squad of underlings under one mind.