He usually remembered his dreams. Not this time, though. He felt as if he had slept for many, many days, and yet, he couldn’t remember a single thing his subconsciousness had produced over that time. Strange.
Oh, wait! There was this thing... People were chasing him around the village with pitchforks, they were angry, he was running away, but he couldn’t run, classic dream problems!, they caught him, everything went even more blurry... Nah, whatever, just another dream.
This ceiling looks strange, doesn’t it?, he realised. Where the fuck am I?
'All stand for Their Majesty, Ruler of the Seven Continents, Sovereign of the Three Moons, Protector of Freedom, Emperor Kĥalɨd, the fourth of this name!’
Fanfares resounded and all hundred forty-four Senators (what an unusual attendance!) rose from their seats as the Emperor entered the Senate Plenary Hall, followed by a dozen generals. Well, “crawled into” might have been a better word to describe it, but since that was the ordinary for their species, I guess just “entered” is fine. The point is, even though for humans it might have looked sluggish and repulsive, for mendrɨans the whole scene looked ultimately royal and dignified as fuck. The Sovereign Senate doesn’t invite the Emperor that often. Whatever is happening, is gonna be huge.
‘My dear Senators’, started the Emperor after reaching the podium, ‘this war is unwinnable’. There was a loud gasp. Even though they knew that the immense power of their Empire is nothing compared to what the invaders from Earth can unleash, they were still holding on to their hope. Does it mean there’s officially no hope anymore?
Kĥalɨd continued: ‘but if we don’t win it, our entire species will perish, our Beloved Planet and its Three Moons will be destroyed to pieces. So we cannot lose it. It’s unwinnable, but we have to win it.’
Their voice started shaking. ‘What the fuck do we do?’, they cried.
schönstes gedicht der welt
braucht kaum zwei wörter
beide ganz unwesentlich