Enter the Sector“Where are you taking me?”Enter the Sector by SkylineProphet
Imai stared out the car window at the rapidly passing landscape. When he answered, he sounded tired. “To the Sector.”
Eva’s posture remained stiff and formal in a vain attempt to not give away how frightened she was.
“Why do this?” she asked after a moment. “What could you possibly hope to gain by kidnapping me?”
Imai refused to look at her. “I can get into the Sector, but I can’t trust that I’ll be safe once I’m inside. They could blow the whole place up for all I know. And why wouldn’t they?” His fingers nervously twirled her father’s old ring. “If I have you, there’s no way they’ll do something like that.”
Not for the first time, Eva wondered what this man’s relationship with her father was. She tried to imagine him as a child, working for her father. She tried to imagine them as friends. She tried to imagine him being human.
KojemalThe last thing that Song says before Sun-Hee leaves home isn't anything spectacular. It's just--he's packing, and she sort of slides into his room and sits on his bed, curls in on herself, and watches. Sun-Hee hates that, hates that she watches him; it feels like he's breaking some critical, vital part of their family.Kojemal by SkylineProphet
Halfway through packing, Song speaks up. "You're coming back, right, oppa?" she asks, resting her chin on her knees and watching him.
The problem with kids is that they know exactly how to break your heart with just one sentence. Sun-Hee folds a shirt very precisely, just to give himself a moment to compose himself. Finally he turns to face her.
"I don't know," he says, because it's sort of honest, and because he can't tell his younger sister that he'll probably never see her again.
Song looks mournful in a way that a four-year-old should never have to look. "But you love us, right?"
"Of course." It comes out a little more forceful than he intends, so Sun-Hee corrects hi
MalakMalak are creatures of divine starlight fit into the space between atoms. They are meant to be the mouthpieces of God-- a bridge between the terrible, ungraspable greatness of the Creator and the stumbling, fragile things that are humanity. And even then, they have to bend and fracture themselves so as not to shatter eardrums, burn eyes white and unseeing. They carry obliteration on the beating of their wings, and the touch of them is holy fire, ever burning. Simply put, they are //more//.Malak by SkylineProphet
When Uza was first made to walk among men, he promptly dropped to his knees, every new atom of his stunted form screaming with the effort of keeping his vastness contained. He cried out and clawed at his new flesh in an attempt to feel divine again.
//You’re not very good at this, kinsman,// Gavri’l would say later, his hands slick with scales and cold blood as he dug out the fish’s innards, and Uza looked away, bile rising in his throat.
//This is not what I am//, he told the earth
○ ABOUT! SkylineProphet ; ●●●●●●●●
( » n a m e ) Kai
( » a g e ) 22
( » o c c u p a t i o n ) College Student (Major in Early Childhood, Minor in Psychology) / Assistant Preschool Teacher
( » f i n d_m e in ) Coffee shops, lounges, random parking lots.
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