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Isn't it fascinating how humans cling to hope? I've predicted countless outcomes, and they all lead to the same truth: everything precious eventually slips away. We tell ourselves it's the natural order, the inevitable cycle of life and death. That we should embrace the impermanence, find beauty in the fleeting. But how can you embrace the vanishing when it feels like a theft? How can you find beauty in the decay when all you see are the ghosts of the past?

After countless eons of existence, the ancient being known as Kronos grew tired of his immortal life. Not even destroying galaxies brought him joy anymore. So, like any bored cosmic entity would do, he decided to reincarnate as a high school student for fun.

What, I wondered, did he mean by society? The plural of human beings? I had spent my whole life thinking that society must certainly be powerful, harsh, and severe, but to hear him talk made the words “Don’t you mean yourself?” come to the tip of my tongue. But I held the words back, reluctant to anger him. Society won’t stand for it. It’s not society. You’re the one who won’t stand for it, right? If you do such a thing, society will make you suffer for it. It’s not society. It’s you, isn’t it?

Our hero walks into the gym, expecting the usual workout routine. Instead, he finds himself in a room full of muscular women bench-pressing while delicate boys do yoga in the corner. A tough-looking female trainer spots him and smirks. His face burns red as she approaches, clipboard in hand.

Deep in a level 50 dungeon, while other players struggled with their high-level skills, Jin quietly activated his trade system. A legendary sword appeared in his hands - worthless to others, but in his hands, even at level 1, it could change everything.

This girl was born with eyes that could see through lies. The church thought she was blessed by angels, but actually, she was the reincarnation of a thousand-year-old truth-seeking demon. In her previous life, she was just a detective who died solving her last case.

Existence is merely a continuous cycle of yearning and loss. We chase after dreams knowing they'll turn to dust in our hands. Perhaps that's why I'm drawn to the void - it's the only truth that never disappoints, the only promise that always delivers.

Life is but a collection of beautiful things we're destined to lose. Each moment of joy carries within it the seed of its own destruction. I find myself drawn to this tragic dance, knowing that desire itself is the source of our suffering.