How beautiful that view had always seemed to her.
The forest—pure and majestic—stretching beyond the reach of sight. A green canvas fading into the horizon, and above it an endless blue scattered with white clouds. If she closed her eyes and searched her memory, she could still see it: hear the soft song of birds and the harmonious beat of their wings when they took flight.
A perfect sight, born of the natural order—one in which the hand of man had played no part.
A sight that had once dazzled a group of nomads who, hundreds of years ago, passed through that very place. It was so beautiful that those people abandoned their way of life: they ended their wandering and settled there. They made that paradise their home, unaware of the consequences that such a simple act would bring.
They found harmony with the forest and its wildlife—at the cost of felling a hectare of trees, carving out what would eventually become an entire city.
But animals were not all that lived there.
How much things could change in only a hundred years.
In only a single day.
A flock of birds burst into the air, frantic. She followed them with her eyes. They abandoned the forest—the trees where they had built nests and families—and sought refuge in the sky.
In trying to escape, they only hastened their end.
They flew too high, and they were the first to fall back down into the red hell they had fled from. Those who tried to go farther by flying low made it a bit longer.
But not by much.
She could hear them falling.
Their small bodies struck the ground near her—the sound and stench they produced were sickening.
They were dead.
Countless generations of animals that had lived peacefully in that forest… all dead.
And it was her fault.
She lowered her head, burying it between her arms and her legs. She shut her eyes and, for a moment, there was only sound.
Life withering in her wake.
The flames leapt from tree to tree, devouring everything that had once been green with their relentless red. Even the blue of the sky watched the outcome of the battle in sorrow: curtains of black smoke spread outward, reaching its kingdom and turning the daylight into an early night.
The smoke reached her too.
The birds that had fallen around her, their bodies burning, were already doing their part. They passed their flames on to the ground. A new fire—smaller, isolated—eager to grow and leave its mark.
And she was right at its center.
Between sobs, the smoke slipped into her nose. She coughed violently, but it was useless.
She was surrounded.
She could get up and run, but… for what? Where could she flee?
Instead, she chose to lie down and let chance decide her executioner: fire, or smoke.
She could hear them too—the descendants of those false nomads—perishing in the city they had struggled to build in that natural paradise. They screamed and begged, all of them weeping as the end bore down on them. The flames had found their way in, passing effortlessly over that stupid wall they were so proud of.
It was ironic that she—because she had escaped—would survive longer than her neighbors… the very ones she had condemned.
And the guilt and grief tormenting her felt strange, and yet justified. The forest and its animals did not deserve that ending.
They did.
She began coughing again. Her lungs were filling with smoke. She spat out what little she could, but she needed air to live—and every time she inhaled, she swallowed more smoke.
She was trapped in that loop, painful and disgusting, though she imagined the touch of fire would be worse.
She could feel the heat growing, which meant she was still aware of the spreading blaze that, sooner or later, would make her its fuel.
One way or another, it would all end soon.
Just as she had wanted for so long.
She coughed again, harder.
She was choking.
Her body demanded something she could not give it. She knew it, consciously—and yet instinct took control. She inhaled once more…
and, to her surprise, her lungs filled with clean air.
She knew instantly.
It was there.
She opened her eyes. Her body lay sprawled on the ground, staring up at a sky turned black. And it was in that sky that she saw it: the consequence of what she had done.
A red orb, hanging where it did not belong.
The one that should have always been the center of that system was now far too close. Its presence was immense, burning—its light and heat, the very force that had given birth to life, had become the reason everything would die.
It was still drawing nearer.
Soon the collision would come.
It was trapped, just like everyone else, at the mercy of a higher being.
She could hear her.
She was approaching.
She didn't turn to look. She didn't stand.
She lay down beside her.
Her presence silenced everything at once: the roar of the flames, the cries of animals, the screams of men and women. Silence fell—perfectly timed, as if the world itself had been forced to hold its breath so she could speak.
"Are you happy?" she asked, with shameless innocence.
She clenched her fists, but didn't look at her.
"This isn't right."
"Why not?"
She didn't answer. The why was something she couldn't explain. Maybe no one could. If anything, she could only ask how it was possible that something like this could ever be right.
The architect of it all extended her arm. Her hand—cold, the color of amethyst—gently took her chin and forced her to look.
She tried to resist, but if the sun itself had been powerless… what chance did she have?
She moved closer.
Her face—pale and smooth as porcelain—hovered above her, blocking the image of the sun as if she had eclipsed it. Her eyes stared with frightening intensity, pouring over her that fractured blend of colors that looked as though it had been etched onto broken glass.
"Why do you pretend you're so angry?" she asked, softer now, tracing the contours of her face with the fascination of someone seeing something for the first time. "This is what you wanted, remember?"
A cruel reminder—one she couldn't escape.
The fire. The death. That creature, and her freedom…
It had been her doing.
It's strange how much everything can change in an instant.
Her life—the endless chain of events and misfortunes that had haunted her for as long as she could remember—led her deep into that forest, to a place where not even light dared enter. She saw the messages written on the walls—warnings about what lived on the other side.
She stared at the door, weighing every possible consequence if what those walls claimed was true.
And she opened it.
On the other side, bound and chained for eternity, was that creature.
It asked her what she desired most in the world.
She thought of it, with the full weight of her entire life pressing down on her mind, and she answered:
"I want to see the world burn."