[001] Death (Patreon)

Colours.

Colours really have a deep connection with our lives.

Each individual on Earth has a different perception or worldview of colours. It may be at the philosophical level or the basic level.

We humans, our entire existences are like the blank canvas of an artist, and with each progression of our destiny, life experiences, and social relationships, the said canvas starts getting filled; recording everything about our lives.

Light and Darkness. Vibrancy and Dullness. Life is a symphony of different colours that best describes our human experiences. The dual concepts of Light and Darkness must coexist to make life meaningful and interesting.

You may be wondering why I am talking about colours. Don't worry, I am just getting started.

My name is Noah De Luca but the people that know me usually just call me Noah. A pretty standard name for an overpowered protagonist, right?

But sadly, I am not a protagonist or someone with a life in easy mode.

In the streets and neighbourhoods of Sao Paulo, life has never been easy. Survival was what mattered most.

The surname De Luca alludes to my father's Italian ancestry but I don't have a Brazilian name except for my mother's continuous spam of embarrassing nicknames.

I am 17 years old and I stand at 182 cm in height.

Well, let me start by saying I haven't been a good kid ever since I was born. I was a naughty little devil and still am.

My parents believe in catholicism like most Brazilians I think. For your information, I haven't done any demographic calculation to ascertain my guesses so take it with a grain of salt.

Anyway, between my parents, Maria De Luca, my mother, is the most stout devotee. Just look at her name twice and see how it speaks volumes of her religious inclinations. I know my stereotyping is bad and falls under negative judgment.

There is a famous saying that states: When you go to Rome do what the Romans do.

Born in a Catholic family, I had to attend masses like them, and any type of resistance was negated by my mother's signature weapon - a pair of cosmic flip-flops.

I swear there's an eighth infinity stone called the "Mother Gem" embedded in it and guess what? it's invisible.

They also had a strong wireless connection, distance didn't mean anything. Infinity was but a mere concept. A mother's discipline overruled everything in existence.

I became a good boy, attended masses on Sunday at our local parish, and was even indoctrinated into catechism which I didn't like and had to play truant in most of the sessions.

Do you remember my previous self-description of evilness? This is where the story gets good.

I became an altar boy when I was around 11 (those who stand at the altar and normally help the Father during a liturgical mass), I had once been tempted by the allure of offerings and tithes.

In my childish mind, it was just easy grabbable money and I didn't care if I was disregarding a commandment in the presence of the Cross and the motherly look of the Holy Mary.

Thou shalt not Steal. Stole, I did, and carelessly squandered the money on useless things. I had a couple of friends gained due to playing football in the streets that I spent the money with and when I felt magnanimous I even donated some to my financially challenged acquaintances that had it worse. Well, it's not like my family was that rich, we were just middle class at best.

In my little naive mind, I thought that I would never be caught. Robinhood was never caught, right?

My days were numbered and I was one day caught in a well-planned trap by the Parish Priest. I vividly remember my panic-stricken young face that was so filled with fear, that you might have thought that I was facing God's Judgment.

I thought I was going to be ratted out by the father to my parents, gosh, I didn't want my mother to ever find out about my sinful misbehaviour. My father was cool and all, his belt a weapon that has never been withdrawn to deliver any form of retribution. It was well-sheathed, preserving its "Belt Qi" for a couple of years.

Contrary to what I had been expecting, the father didn't rat me out and only smiled at me. He sat me down and offered me words of divine mercy and all that mumbo jumbo. That day I realized my mistakes and sought confession under the Father's guidance. I vowed to never repeat such transgressions.

I turned over a new leaf but the Father relieved me of my altar duties as if not to take chances, haha. Human-reading psychology at work.

Alas, my little self thought that I was forgiven and the story closed but as if guided by the visions from heaven and motherly instincts, Maria De Luca saw through my soul after a couple of days.

That day my father was totally not cool. His silence and fatherly love didn't mean that he couldn't deliver me to Jesus. That day the thousands of years of stored "Belt Qi" ran amok, casually shifting the heavens and earth. His Italian profanities were very fresh in my mind.

My father had been like that silent kid in our class. A hidden monster. More terrifying than even Mother.

And I, Noah De Luca, saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

After a short-lived phase of hating them for their disciplinary actions, everything returned to normal.

I couldn't hold onto hate and continued receiving their love and spoiling as the only child. I was reformed and became obedient by caging my inherent rambunctious self.

During that time I recall that my attention had been entirely piqued by anime and cartoons and I started taking my foreign language seriously. Well, that was English. The subs needed to be read(I hated dubs). It was a mighty struggle, my friend.

My main language has always been Portuguese and a little bit of Italian, courtesy of my father, so just imagine how hard it was to learn and speak English in a public institution that taught little to no English. But fret not "The internet" always comes to the rescue.

Within 3 years, I became fluent and could both write and speak in English(I was like 13 at that time). Of course, my Brazilian accent had to stay… like forever.

In my high school years, when I was 15, I boarded the boat of light novels, manga, manhwa, and Manhua. As a weeb of culture, one had to graduate by gaining certification from all sources of knowledge. Also during that time, I broke the Otaku Matrix and got a girlfriend called Isabella. We did whatever teenage couples did including what lovers did under the sheets. Teenage romance was toxic and not to the best as emphasized by our occasional breakups and make-ups. Isabella simply loved the drama and I liked whoring due to my 9.9/10 looks. We didn't care that we were addicted to each other.

So about colors, huh? My life ever since my birth had been full of vibrancy, some uppers and downers here and there but it was something worthy of remembrance.

But it all changed during what I describe as my most hellish days. The world around me was never the same ever since that fateful day.

The day I lost her. The day I lost him.

The day I lost both of them. My parents.

A damn tragedy. Why did it have to happen when I was about to enrol for my degree at the university?

Why did I have to lose both of them to a fucked up truck driver's careless driving? Just why?

Life is quite unpredictable in a myriad of ways.

I wanted to major in CS and my parents had been supportive of my decision and ambitions despite their medical backgrounds. Mother had been a nurse while Dad had been a heartthrob of a doctor.

I wanted to make myself and them proud but such an eventuality was shattered by the cruelty of reality.

I loved them and they loved me back unconditionally regardless of my flaws. Them leaving me behind in this damned world left me heartbroken… for real. And due to that, I permanently cut off Isabella and generally, women, to grieve in silence after listlessly going through the motions of their burial in Rio.

Colors were no more and my world was monochromatic. Wallowing in loneliness made me feel the urge to be together with my parents but I vehemently pushed such ideas from my mind lest I drown deeper into the abyss of despair and pain. After going through all the stages of grief, I knew that I had to man up and continue with life.

The world continues to rotate on its own axis 24 hours a day and it won't ever stop due to my loss. I had to come to terms with that.

My Otaku mind wished that they had another chance at life through the reincarnation system while my believer self wished their departed souls a good time in heaven.

I hustled through the streets of Sao Paulo and used some of my chuuni knowledge to cook up some light novels to cater for my hobby and personal needs. My parents had set aside some funds for my college and well-being but I just didn't want to stay idle since money can't remain stagnant and is always moving.

I did my freshman year quite well but it was a struggle. CS wasn't laughing with me. It mocked me and I mocked it back with pure grit, dedication, and endless practice. I fortified my programming foundation through every means possible.

And I met a hurdle named JS in my sophomore year. Yet another struggle since I wasn't a fast learner. I was the type to put 5x the effort. I was bright but, uh, not that exaggerated. My academic intelligence was... average, maybe a little better than that.

It honestly sucks.

Well, I am currently reminiscing all of this while being fried by my own 850W PSU that I had risked buying when it was on sale at Wish. (I curse you custom guys for your distasteful high taxes before I kick the bucket. Oh shit, I forgot that I am in Brazil and the government needs 'some' revenue. The long arm of the government is totally NOT corrupt. The tax authorities have families to feed, right?)

In that moment, I have re-lived all of my life.

I can see the angelic faces of my mother and father smiling down at me from the doors of Heaven but I know it's just an illusion.

I stink with sins just like any other random human(I don't think there's a need to mention some weird hentai that drowned me deep into the sea of degeneracy).

Death isn't that bad.

It's cold and warm. The balance is what I mean. The Balance.

I feel at home, free even. I am ascending into a higher plane.

Being an astral cosmic being won't be that bad, right?

And I finally shut down, forever lost in the world of darkness.

I just pray that my karma isn't in the negative if I ever get a chance to live a second life!

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