There is no sky, no earth. No air, no shadow. Only this space that breathes with me… or perhaps I breathe with it.Every step I try to take sinks into a void that refuses to hold my weight. My hands tremble, my legs dissolve into an echo of movement that no longer exists.The blood of my daughter, of my victims, of all I have done… flows toward me from a past that was never mine, claiming me with relentless cold.
The Man with the Harmonica is gone. His notes remain, embedded in every corner of my mind. I do not know if it is his music or the pulse of the madness now consuming me. Every memory of pain and death, every fragment of stolen time, blends with mine.
I try to scream, but the sound dissolves before leaving my throat.I try to cry, but there are no tears, only a pressure crushing my chest, a silence that forbids breath.I close my eyes and see… everything and nothing at once.My daughter, smiling amid tears that never reach the real world.I, a man who can no longer call himself human, trapped in an ocean of memories that devour me.
The thread that bound me to reality has transformed into invisible chains.If I cut it… madness has won.If I held it… the world sways with every step I take.There is no escape, only an endless cycle of horror that does not show itself, that is felt… that pierces me.
I hear a murmur, a whisper that is not mine:
"Daddy… can you endure it?Nothing does not hurt, but it does not comfort either."
And I understand…Silence is not peace.Silence is the confirmation that everything I loved and destroyed has become nothing.My flesh, my blood, my thoughts… all are echoes of infinite fragments that have no owner.
I float in this darkness that has no edges, no time, no end.The Man with the Harmonica is gone, but his presence beats in every particle of my being.The daughter who killed me… still holds me with an invisible thread, and I can only cling to the idea that surviving means something… though I do not know what.
The real world has ceased to exist.And I… remain here, a floating fragment of madness and memory, certain that nothing will ever be as it was.Silence… but not peace.