Be Yourself

Prelude

Run

Run on those silent cobblestones. Run on this wetland. Run under this cold as freezing as marble.

It's night, cooler and darker than the ebony in your hair.

The sky is overcast, and many dark clouds gather above your head. Thunder rumbles, accompanied by great gusts of wind. The earth is shaking. Even underground, you can feel this atmospheric change, reflecting your tumultuous emotions.

Run

The overwhelming atmosphere is strengthening around you. You suffocate between these stony pavilions. They all look alike. Day or night. Dark or light. Nothing changes. The stone remains what it is, empty and soulless, no matter if changes are made to its building.

Artificial light almost shines in a thousand colours on this rock. It is never extinguished. There is no curfew in the underground. You can hear the silent breathing of the city. The invisible breath is carrying the mothers who cry in their beds. The suffering of children begging for hunger. The pain of dying people.

By extending your hand, you can touch that tune that makes all the hopes and dreams of these inhabitants fly. As you breathe, you can taste the death and the blood spilled in these dark streets. Looking closely, you can see the veins under your ivory-pale skin. Skin that has never known the sun's rays.

Run and hide.

These columns, which extend to the ceiling and protect this underground city, are perfect. Hide high up and watch silently. Enjoy the calm before the storm. Take advantage of this moment of respite before the sentence.

Adrenaline is at its peak in your veins. Your eyes roam the dirty and worn streets of the whole city. You look for danger, the slightest movement indicating that you must hurry.

Running away is your primary concern. The vagaries of the street, of the black market, have caught up with you. You are considered a thug, even among the worst crooks, hidden under its galleries.

They allied themselves with the militia, these money-corrupted men, to stop you and your group. They all fell. You're the only one still standing.

The underground, once your playground, is a hunting ground where you have become the prey.

Now, getting to the surface is your goal. You want to discover these places that everyone here below dreams of. You want to do the impossible. They never got to go out, but you want to. These green hills, these rivers as clear as crystal. These trees whose tops touch the sky. You will see them.

You want to see this life above you. Is it that different from yours? Are people the same, or does the sun make them more pleasant and less aggressive? You want to taste the freedom life in these dungeons has taken away from you. You want to climb trees or ride a horse. You want to know what the sea looks like, which only exists in these broken books. You want to be able to look behind you without fear of getting killed.

If you want to live this life, then run.