INT. ELEVATOR OF SCHOOL BUILDING - DAY

A young man SEBASTIAN (20s, wearing glasses and a plaid shirt over beige pants, awkward looking) is standing in the corner of the elevator anxiously. He looks down at his feet where his funky cartoon socks peak out from his short pants. In his hands is a wooden box.

Loud noises outside dim as door closes.

The elevator is well lit but looks worn. Miscellaneous posters of is hung on one side of the elevator. One of them reads "CHESS TOURNAMENT" •

Suddenly, we here a thud. SEBASTIAN looks up to see LAURA (woman,

40s, wearing heels and formal attire) blocking the door with one hand.

SEBASTIAN glances.

LAURA pauses after making eye contact with SEBASTIAN, looking a bit fright, then walks in the elevator calmly.

EXT. HOUSE PARTY- NIGHT

A house is lit with music faintly booming inside. It’s a dark summer night. The streets, slightly lit, seem extra quiet. A woman (Alex, 29, wearing a leather jacket and white maxi-dress) is smoking alone in the garden. Blue LED lights reflecting onto her face.

The door squeaks open and noises from inside the house crescendos. A woman (Kaia, 27, wearing casual business attire) walks into the garden.

KAIA

(chuckling, relaxed, to the room)

I’ll be right back.

She closes the door and it quietens. KAIA turns around and

freezes, as she sees ALEX leaning against the wall.

Silence. Muffled loud music still booming behind the walls.

Heaven of all heavens,

                 god of all Gods

When Buzhou1 split to a thousand pieces,

                 begging the sky to fall,

                                  flaming its trees and flooding its valleys,

Mankind’s weeping was merely a rhyme.

Who am I to bear the pain, caused

                 by thine nasty, gaunt anger.

Petulant child, who canst thus seize thine anguish

                 leads to pain.

When I sat by Ruhe2, molding and malleating

                 did I beat

the weight of my heart,

                 in each replication

into thee?

Who am I to bear the pain,

now that I am praised

as the holy mother,

Disguised

in beautiful sacrifice.

As I gathered stones and mystical leaves

                  I melted them into a slurry.

And used the smelted rocks

to paste over the ripped firmament.

I chopped the four feet off a giant tortoise,

and used them as the pillars

                                    to heaven.

I slayed thy great black dragon,

                  slayed reeds and grasses and

burned them to ash. I stopped

streams screaming in

all directions alive.

Then, the sky was mended and the earth was even.

The waters had stopped. And I am once again the holy mother.

The creator.

If you are what you see, and the world is nothing but what you feel

            just maybe

You won’t ever feel the sky stare into your eye and see

            what you see for the first

                        time. Or may be someone

who carries it on their shoulders,

            performs it in their mind every time you stare at a tree and feel

                        absolutely nothing

But dare you forget what you saw. Be pulled and thrusted by its weight on your blades.

As you tread the world where trees are buildings and buildings clouds,

where skies are canvases and nothing

            means anything.

Right?

If you are in the same game played

already by the same people understood

already by the same nobody except

            those who have already lost.

            What?

            Losers losing

                        the epitome of

                        humanity.