Undesirable

The Ananta

The world was a grim place until the dream of Olamdiar wasn't there. And since it was preserved in the ambitious eyes of many alike him, there wasn't anybody as bold as him: in his last moments, he was standing on the first two mountains before the last shore, saying, 'The highest place of the Ananta with the deepest hole beneath. I never wonder why you did it. But as long as I observe I am wondering why there was inequality in my mind. Maybe, because freedom or slavery...everything is just a fantasy—a thought whether to believe in or not. There has always been a flaw, which is where the idea to be awakened exists. It is not made by me, but it is the rule without the ruler, hence, not a rule but an instinctual wisdom. Because the world has always been a grim place even though the torch of orange flame blazes mighty in the core. If one cannot devour, then better be devoured. That is how the history of mankind has become...it is always all about fight. And if you do not go to war—no matter how shallow it is—you better have some other reason to live or else better be dead and forgotten! Anyways, there shall be no boundaries....' And he leaped down to the abyss of the first sphere.

'Here lies the exception,' was the stone craved by Olamdiar with his Gabbroic rock tool. But deep in those words, he added, 'The refreshment of a soul is mandatory. A start must have a fresh re-start in order to apply all the failures of the past on one point we must not abandon. After all, we who live in the world of consciousness always have some dream, and once we push past it, the comeback is all about courage and determination. I hope you will always have faith in the inauguration of your ambition. Please never astray! I will always beg you to fight even if it is futile. And thank you for all your aid in fulfilling my dream! I bid you a very fond farewell, my friends!' He placed the rock on the grave of Arandhira. He gave that dead man a boon, and then there was born a prodigy, a man who would surpass him one day. But as he set the rule, his writing was ground to the sand grain and all the wisdom he had shared became a distant memory: 'I hope one day everyone will remember what they have forgotten just now.' And like that, he was gone to his dearest assembly of nobody.

A couple of decades forward was enough to bring evolution and different meaning to liberation. Soon, when the world had no master to manage the flow of the conscious mind, a lot of the living beings walked away from their ambition and became vagabonds. But those who remained firm to their belief were known as the Liberated folks; the generation inherited the flames of Olamdiar.

Other hand, the lost souls were dying in a conundrum. Their existence was even questionable, as they were never born under the rule of Olamdiar beforehand. In fact, nobody was born and died under the rule of the mighty creator. But as they were living in his world, a few of them managed to come back as awakened beings. Their cunningness reached the roots of their inheritance—farther than Olamdiar—that they began to fathom the flow of time. 'If one can understand something, it means that property can possibly be manipulated by them.' said the shadow monarch. 'Let's test this philosophy.' That was instantaneous to say the anarchic world was possessed by the shadow monarch as his influence grew a little too deep as the sunlight after a grave dusk.

The Gyrate, he and his assembly were called by the Liberated folks, albeit they put pride in that adopted name. They declare that The Gyrate meant the god yonder rules a timid era.

The god of the Gyrate, the shadow monarch or the one who wielded the golden cloak and crown, never reached the last three spheres of Olamdiar's world. It was not like he did not try. But he was weak to fight the gatekeeper, Dhir of the foundation, Sean of the Sullivan, and Ciceroni the Tartarean, though he questionably attained the Prithvi from the house of King, and sent Girisha for the newly found sphere, Esdelir.

But beforehand, when there was no division of the world—even the word 'The Ananta' was a thought in the omniverse—the shapeless halo was compressed to come into life and then framed as Olamdiar the Creator: 'He who owns the grand domain inside the master world; the absolute being, and a part of the Almighty's distant assembly.'