The whole surrounding was silent, shrouded in nebulous precipice which lingered as the two men glared at each other. Without even fighting, the surrounding had adopted a miasmal state which billowed about like ripples of tidal waves. The atmosphere became more nebulous, plunging daylight into a capricious nightime.Castor's frown became deeper as he glared at Walter with condescending disdain which affected nature, infecting it with an abyssal chasm of gloominess.Walter frowned as he also glared at Castor, the predator who had mauled everything belonging to him, leaving him with nothing. He remembered all the deaths Castor had caused, all the pain he had billowed through like ripples on the surface of a fluid. Both of them were engaging in a mental battle, trying to usurp the other. Because of this, their Magical Bodies became very powerful as they tried to increase their Arrays beyond each other.Walter was surprised that Castor had the same ability as he did and couldn't help but

What is a mystery? Is it an axiom representing what is not perceptible and understandable? Is it the unfathomable, incomprehensible no matter how people try to make it specious? No, it isn't that. The definition of mystery is only what people can conceive, a specious fact with loopholes. People believe what they believe to be true and sadly, it has plunged them to the endless gore of ignorance.Mysteries aren't what we don't understand or what we can't comprehend. Mysteries aren't what remain hidden, taciturn to the ever yearning ears of people. Mysteries aren't the supernatural laws which can't be explained or fathomed. No, the definition of 'mysteries' is beyond that.Mysteries are what can't be reached no matter how we try to reach them. It isn't what can't be comprehended. Rather, it's what can't be reached. They are endless gores, immersed into the abyssal chasm of infinities. Mysteries are a state of endlessness and boundlessness, incomprehensible and unfathomable. Yes, that's w

"Where the heck have you been?!" a voice thundered across the sitting room, shrouding the voices coming out of the TV within it.Cassio stood rooted to the spot, bearing the heavy gaze of his stepfather. As usual, he had met his stepfather at home—drunk and jobless.Mr. Humphrey was dressed in a black grubby T-shirt and shabby jeans, a baseball cap propped on top of his small head. He was a perfect example of a neanderthal man, huge and domineering. His eyes and teeth were yellow, depicting his fondness of cigarettes. Suspended within his right index and middle fingers was a large stick of cigarette, the ring glowing with faint ember colour. Grey smoke snaked its way from the ring, forming puffs of smoke around Mr. Humphrey."I'm coming from school," Cassio replied without the slightest bit of fear in him. It was in his former years that he had feared and dreaded Mr. Humphrey as if he was some god. Now he had been beating tough like coconut and couldn't bring himself to cower before h

The next day Cassio woke up earlier than usual, staring at the sleeping Chase. He then muttered silently, "We'll go back home soon."He hurriedly took his bath and dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans. Cladded around his feet were white sneakers which matched perfectly with his dressing. Surprisingly just like Cassio, the owner of this body had also loved white colour—Cassio could remember vividly. He made way to his wardrobe, took out his white backpack which sat propped against the wall and slung it across his back. As this was the first time the current Cassio was going to the School of Alchemy, he was filled with high expectations about this Magic School.He hurriedly made his way to the dining where he met Mrs. Damien readying the table for breakfast. For a baffling reason, he felt this woman was actually his real mother."Good morning, Mum," he said, forcing a smile across his face. The smile was so wide that he couldn't help but feel awkward. To become the former Cassio wh

It was 3 O'clock when Cassio arrived at home. The hot sun had heated him up, sucking every form of coldness from him. He was very hot right now and engulfed in perspiration which made his white shirt cling to body. His white curly and long hair was matted with wetness which seemed like he had actually been in the rain and not in the sun! This was what perspiration truly was!Cassio was now standing in his room, staring at the mirror. The blood stain was still in his shirt, very visible for all to see at first glance. In order to avoid any skulking eyes of inquisitive people, he had taken shortcuts through alleys and orchards, arriving in the Hastle Manor on time. All these shortcuts were of course, retained in his recollected memories.He removed his shirt and took it to his bathroom for laundry. He was actually glad that he had been transmigrated to a modern era or else he would have had a bad time washing the blood stain off his white shirt. There was a washing machine in his bathro