The Equinox of Life

[You don't have to read this. It was a personal journey of mine to write this story.  I encourage you to, its a lot, but if you read along it will add a lot to the songs!]

Feel free to contact me these ways:
duxism@gmail.com
@duxies_ on Discord
@duxies_ on Twitter

The runtime of the OST currently is roughly 16 minutes.

https://soundcloud.com/duxies/sets/the-equinox-of-life?si=1b88929ae2c24a1fbf9edd...

[Preface]

You are set in the cruel, careless, unforgiving world of Promethea. A pangea set in constant war, ruled by the unforgiving God of Petulance, Chrona. The Sisters of Chronus have been fighting for this land since the inception of life. The Central Tree of Promethea keeps the Clocks of the Empyreal constantly ticking, so humanity may keep track of their feeble time on this mound. Time is ultimately meaningless to the God of Promethea, seldom do they show care outside of their own affairs. It’s rare to see anyone make it to the age you have. Death is common, life is meaningless, but finding purpose in living is even harder. You and your wife have made it all this way, and this is the story of their final moments on this thankless, unforgiving mound. 

Song 1: Tempus Fugit

The world feels like it's crumbling around you. The sands of time fill the streets, the Central Tree of Promethea has been set ablaze and its heart bleeds uncontrollably. You hear the Church of Autumnal Equinox’s bells toll, the end is nigh. You have nobody left. The world is cold and unfeeling, the maggots of regret uncontrollably fill your brain. Did you waste your time on this mound? Was it worth it, did you spend your days wisely? You think to yourself as you hardly recall the flow of time up until now. Reminiscing is naught, The Angels of Chrona’s Stars are helpless against the Chaos. You start to helplessly daydream of better days, when you were a child; before the Great War of the Sisters of Chronus began. You come to the realization as the chorus of sand descends further into the streets: we don’t have much time left, do we? You hear one last bell ring off from the Church. You delve into a state of anxiety as you see the sands seep through your front door. Your wife is nowhere to be seen, your final moments of clarity are spent in a neurotic panic. The sands envelope you, you’re unsure of your fate as you sink deeper into the sands. 

Song 2: Land of the Gods

You awake. The sky's the first thing you see. It resembles the magical dazzling gleam of an opal. You’re unsure of where you are exactly, but you only see a tree in the distant horizon. You come to the realization that that is the Central Tree of Promethea. You can still see the embers of the fire, its bark has been burnt. You can see something flowing out of it, it closely resembles that of blood, but you can barely make it out. “How can a tree bleed? That is simply impossible,” you think to yourself. It is in a desolate state, just like yourself. 

You snap out of it. That's right, you were looking for your wife. The only destination in this barren wasteland is the Central Tree of Promethea. You start your journey in search of your wife, as she is the only solace you may find in this new landscape. You’ve only heard mere whispers of this tree, the thought of it makes you uneasy. You discover a newfound hope inside of yourself despite this, unknowing of the horrors you will eventually come across on your journey. You are a mere mortal in the Land of Gods. You are the sole survivor of humanity, your only hope being that you miraculously find your wife. The nature of being human gets the best of you, with this newfound hope you take pride in it, and continue marching forward. Be it delusion or pride, you are set in your journey to find your soulmate once more. However, you can’t help but feel the encroaching unease. You simply have no choice but to move forward, regardless. You have a mission to accomplish and you will complete it no matter the cost. 

Song 3: An Angel's Advice

You’ve been walking for who knows how long. You haven’t eaten in ages, but for some reason you no longer feel hunger. You find it within yourself to persist. You hear a distant sound above you, you look up and it is an unrecognizable star-shaped being descending upon you. You recall reading about something similar in your religious studies, it must be one of the Angels of Chrona’s Stars. You pause as it comes to you at a slow halt, it levitates passively off the sand. It is generally a featureless creature, only with dark sockets for eyes. It speaks to you.

“You’ve been traveling, creature of flesh. You cannot see. You do not know. You simply exist, in between time. You are in Limbo.”

You feel an imposing presence weighing down on your shoulders. You are not sure what to feel anymore. The cruel creature continues on its tirade.

“You are empty. You feel so much but ultimately mean so little. You know deep down that your journey is pointless. You are not happy, you are not sad, you are simply not even here. Do you truly exist? Can you prove it? Your kind has been wiped out. You are confined to the weak concepts of this Universe and must follow its rules. Time is an unending, cruel machine for pitiful creatures such as yourself. Time will continue to march on, it is out of your control. You may continue your journey, but time will not stop marching on. We will always be here, but will you?”

The creature slowly floats back off, you know not where it travels to. You are simply shocked, in a state of disbelief. You do not know whether to feel anger, anguish or defeat. This is not what you read in the religious texts. You are torn. Do you continue your journey, or do you accept defeat as the creature suggests?

“Ni conversus fueris et sicut puer factus

Et vitam mutaveris in meliores actus,

Intrare non poteris regnum Dei beatus.

Ad mortem festinamus peccare desistamus.”

Song 4: Gerascophobia

After much deliberation, you keep walking. It at least gives you something to do other than sit down and do absolutely nothing. You have no idea when the last time you ate, drank water, or slept was, but it doesn’t matter as long as you’re still standing. However, at least it now seems like the Tree is at least getting closer. You see something curiously poke out of the ground. You step closer to examine it, as this is the only sign of life (or what you think is life) you’ve seen so far.

A tiny little creature emerges from the sand. You smile, as it's slightly adorable. It resembles that of an asparagus. An eye and 3 appendages pop out of it. The ground starts shaking and you can hear the creature start to giggle. It suddenly quadruples in size, and beckons over you. It grew wings and horns and has drenched itself in its own blood in the process. You realize this creature is not friendly. Its overwhelmingly impending presence terrifies you. 

You get ready to fight, as you’ve lived 40 years too long on this mound without a good fight. The constant state of war this mound has been constantly stricken with has prepared you for this moment. You’re roughly hip height to this oddly cute demon monstrosity, so you dash towards it and go for its legs. The demon takes notice, floats slightly up into the air and dodges. A wave of anxiety racks over you as you realize you just made a massive mistake. It dives towards you, and you only barely manage to dodge out of pure luck.

You quickly think of a strategy to defeat this foul demon. It has one gigantic eye, just like a cyclops. This is your only chance, as it's stunned from diving headfirst at you.  

You dash towards the demon and you manage to take it off guard. You thrust your arm upwards into its gigantic eyeball while it's still trying to stand up, with all the might you can, you dig in as deep as you can. The creature wails in extreme distress and immense pain, flapping its wings helplessly. You’re about shoulder length into the creature, you struggle tirelessly to rip your arm back out of the creature’s disgusting eyeball. Its screeching only becomes more intense and you start to become dizzy as it's louder than the Church’s bell at the equinox. You finally manage to rip your arm out, and you fall onto your back and hit the ground. You pass out from the height as you must’ve hit your head.

“Deyr fé,

deyja frændur,

deyr sjálfur ið sama;

ek veit einn at aldri deyr,

dómr um dauðan hvern.”

Song 5: Sugar Rush Dreamscape

You awake. This landscape is unfamiliar, but not nearly as dreadful as where you were before. You’re washed over in a sense of euphoria. You think you may have finally died and escaped the suffering. Pure joy washes over you. 

The landscape is filled with cotton candy clouds. You start dancing and running around, as you can only feel pure, unnatural amounts of dopamine overflow your brain. Everything starts to get faster and faster, you’re living in a metaphysical sugar rush right now. It's only a matter of time before you crash. 

The environment goes dark. The cotton candy turns to black and starts melting, like God spat its awful saliva all over your fun. You feel like you’ve been shot through the heart, but more importantly, you’re not sure if there’s anything under these clouds. You close your eyes and start falling endlessly, helpless to do anything. You open your eyes for a split second and as you’re about to hit the ground, you awake once more.

“Vita brevis breviter in brevi finietur,

Mors venit velociter quae neminem veretur,

Omnia mors perimit et nulli miseretur.

Ad mortem festinamus peccare desistamus.”

Sic vita fluit, dum stare videtur

Song 6: Sic labitur ætas

Once you have finally regained your bearings, you see a wooden ceiling, infinitely scaling to the atmosphere. Your vision is blurry, you’re not sure where you are quite yet. You quickly shake yourself awake, sitting upright immediately. You are hit in the face with the realization that you’re in the Tree. Finally, you made it. Your suffering isn’t all for naught, quite yet. This is the only wooden structure in the entirety of this forsaken desert, so it would logically be the only location for you to arrive at. 

The atmosphere starts to vibrate violently. Your muscles begin to tense. You only hear the words:

Tempus 

vincit  

Omnia.

You know these words from the proverbs. It certainly can’t be, right? Chrona, facing you? A mere mortal? No… it can’t be! The earth quakes violently and you feel the ground beneath you shatter, the pebbles of the tree levitating effortlessly. 

You hear the words: “Who dares enter my tree?”

There is a lump the size of a planet in your throat. You cannot speak. There is a boulder in your chest, your knees feel they might squirm away at any moment.

You hear the words: “Hrmph. This is certainly a first.” The sound vibrates your skull. “I thought the Equinox would’ve killed your kind. It seems like I was wrong. A pitiful little worm is what’s left. What a shame.”

You start floating off the ground, in sheer disbelief. Is this the power of a God?

You hear the words: “Since you made it this far, I won’t kill you quite yet. Before you pass from this mortal realm, I’m going to relish this opportunity.”

You can feel your bones start to rattle. The blood and marrow that makes up the atomic structure of your body start to squirm. You want to peel off your skin, it is utterly unbearable. This is beyond any suffering another man could dream to inflict on another.

You hear the God laugh maniacally, ending it with the words: “You will die soon, just like the rest of your kind. Another fleeting moment in your pitiful existence. You know, I was like you once. A small, meaningless, little creature like you. But I…wanted…more. I saw the state of the world, eons ago, it was not much different as it was in your lifetime. My family were in the lowest of dregs in this world. I know your suffering. I know what it's like. This betrayal was all necessary. We needed to destroy the Empyreal Clocks. This tree is all that's left. And you. All that is left of meaning in this world is gone. Save for you, of course. Once you are gone, we can finally reset. Lift this world up from its pitiful, greedy, petulant, mortality and save it from sin. Humans are not meant to exist, they were doomed for failure from the start.”

Tick, 

tock.

Tempus 

vincit 

Omnia.