That top was reached, and yet, I merely just stood at the edge of those upper spikes. Looking down gave only a feeling of dizzy uncertainty. The thought repeated -- did what I say ever matter in a never-ending time where one man's words could make or break a society? If I never acted at all, I could merely carry on with the waves. I could live a comfortable existance on the surface, too. But with what I had in life, what little I had, a comfortable existance would just be a bed to sleep in at night and nothing else. I had no experience with real career. All I knew was throwing my body at things to kill them, and setting others in line. The entry-level discourages such things as violence, but violence is all I knew and all I needed to survive.

I looked down again. And this time, I saw a confirmation of what I needed to do. It was a small crowd, looking up at me. What they probably assumed was that I was just some crazy vagabond climbing things for fun. My clothes weren't that nice, perhaps torn a few times on my journey to the stage of Heaven. But I couldn't see who was down there, so they probably could'nt see me neither. The wind picked up the farther I had gone to reach this, and now, it flew in front of my eyes and my horns. Now was now, the wind only a reminder of that if I let go of what I held onto, I would die. I would be swept away in the seas, thrown to the ground, and splattered. Just like the ones that served as sentinels with me. I could've been them, and now that I was still alive and unwell, my duties were to speak for those who couldn't.