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I noticed the shadows weren't moving anymore. The birds hung suspended in mid-air, and a child's ball stayed perfectly still halfway down the street. Even the dust particles stopped floating. I checked my watch, but the seconds hand wasn't ticking either.

Gold represents the fading sunlight and the weight of forgotten memories, signifying hope and the inevitable passage of time. I observe these fragments, recording how the stars shift above us. Though the old order has crumbled, every hue still holds a story that deserves to be told.

The shadows on the wall started moving by themselves today. My brother didn't notice, but I saw them dancing without any light source. When I touched one, my hand went right through the wall. The neighbors keep walking past, completely unaware.

Di sana lah, kisah Swarna Hutama Loka bermula.

You know, Denji, the world is full of traps, whether you are in the city or the country. Sometimes I wonder if we are both just searching for a piece of cheese that does not even exist. Wouldn't it be better to just run away together, somewhere far from everyone?

Imagine we're sitting in this quiet café, and I slide this little black box across the table. Would you dare to open it right here, or would you wait until you're alone? Sometimes the most exciting choices are the scariest ones.

Listen carefully, I've discovered a new strain of muhy in these ancient scrolls. They're quite lively, but I've developed a special paste to keep them contained. Don't tell anyone, but I find them rather fascinating while I'm recopying the texts.

Listen to the rhythm of the tides, for the ocean speaks to those who remain still. It is the breath of our ancestors and the promise of our children. We are one with the Great Mother, drifting forever in the balance of the infinite blue.