THE SCULPTOR OF ABSURDITY

Hello everyone!

"...."

Truly, I’m glad to see you all here again.

(THUD!!! — THUD!!! — THUD!!!)

Perhaps you're wondering what that dull noise accompanying my thoughts is.

(BAM!!! — CRACK!!!)

Well, let’s just say my forehead and the bark of this tree are having a rather close conversation in an attempt to process that, indeed, everything I see when I open my eyes is still there.

Are you asking if I'm desperate?

Well, don't worry! It’s not that I’m desperate, it’s just that sometimes the skull needs a physical reminder that this isn't a dream.

"But, alright... that's enough. We don't want to leave an ugly mark on the tree... or on my face."

I stopped for a moment, feeling the slight throb in my forehead, and exhaled slowly.

"... Fuff."

It’s no use losing my composure when there are so many people —and things— depending on me to stay calm.

"Mmmgh... ach...!"

And following up on what I said, feeling a small tremor in my lap, I looked down to see Flora, her nose twitching, on the verge of another sneeze.

"No, no... not again, little one."

So, once more, I calmly pulled out the handkerchief and, with precise movements, wiped her nose.

I am not going to let another cloud of pollen put me to sleep in the middle of this scene!

"Mama~"

With that, Flora looked at me with sparkling eyes as she settled onto my shoulder.

"OK, stay there please."

So, after advising her to hold on and with extreme care, I pressed my palms into the dirt, feeling the dampness of the dew and the firmness of the ground beneath my fingers.

"Yes!"

.... Dammit, she’s adorable.

(Clack!)

But without letting myself be intimidated and holding back a sigh, I stood up little by little, stretching my back while my eyes scanned the scene once more!

"Alright... let's see where we start fixing this."

And so, to begin, I walked at a deliberate pace toward Silver...

(Clink! — Vrrr!)

Who sat there totally static, her helm slightly tilted toward the two statues that, at least aesthetically, looked like "goddesses," if we put aside their behavior and the fact that they were clearly made of marble.

(Mmmgh... vrrr-haaa... Krrr-ack!!)

But despite my approach, the statues kept at it, writhing with that sound of stone rubbing against stone on the ground, as if they were suffering an eternal existential cramp.

"Hey, Silver... can you explain to me what’s going on here?"

So, understanding nothing, I drew closer, asking calmly with a tilt of my head!

(... Wait... Is that...!)

However, before she could emit a single beep in response, my eyes detected something unforgivable.

(Dirt!!)

On the polished surface of Silver's armor, right near the leg joints, there were slight mud stains.

"..."

Mud. Filth. On my impeccable Silver.

(I will not allow it.)

My brain simply went "click."

(Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh!)

Almost without being conscious of it, my hand was already in my pocket pulling out the emergency cleaning kit as I moved, leaving behind a trail of afterimages while my hands worked at a speed that defied friction.

(Frott-frott-frott!)

Silk cloth, polishing wax, a touch of precision in the grooves... and done.

("MOMMA!")

In less time than it takes to blink, the mud had vanished, replaced by a shine that reflected the stars with an insulting clarity.

"Silver~!"

Immediately followed, in a choreographed manner, Silver made an impulsive leap into my arms just as I was putting away the cloth!

"OOF!"

But don't underestimate me, for without backing down (much), I caught her in mid-air, coordinating my movements to cushion the impact.

"Are you alright?!"

And immediately after digging my feet into the ground, I proceeded to check Silver's condition just as a confirmation, while I wobbled backward so as not to end up flat on my back on the ground, until I finally managed to steady myself.

("I'm fine!")

And after verifying Silver's status, I settled her rigid body against my chest and, with one hand, began to rub her helm rhythmically.

"Good, good, good girl~"

... Ok... I'll admit it... The sound of metal being stroked by my fingers was strangely relaxing, like a creaky purr... What, you got a problem with that?!

(Krrr-ack... h-haaa...!)

Oh, right... Ahem, since the sound of the writhing stone was becoming harder and harder to ignore... it was time to get to the bottom of the truth!

"... Returning to the question, Silver... Do you know what... Well... that is...?"

So I returned to the question, pointing a finger somewhat hesitantly at the two marble figures that were still in their peculiar state of agitation.

("I rescued them!")

In response, her body tensed as she proclaimed her intent with a pride so palpable I could almost see the sparks of self-satisfaction flying from her joints.

Shouldn't you probe further with your questions?

What an excellent question, dear reader... But you see... It's a bit difficult to say this, however... Seeing Silver puff out her chest in such a way that her armor seemed to gain a few centimeters in volume, tilting her helm toward the sky with such childish bravado... I find it impossible not to find her charming! (this person is a lost cause)

"Wow, that's really impressive, Silver! You're a very brave girl."

... Stop looking at me like that... I know... But what do you want me to do?! (This person is a lost cause)

"Haaaa... Alright, I guess all that's left is to ask the... people... statues in question...?"

Indeed, in these cases, the most optimal way to get answers is to go directly to the source, no matter how mineral it might be!

(Clink! — Tap!)

So, adjusting my grip on Silver, holding her firmly in my arms like someone carrying a very heavy and shiny stuffed animal, I began to walk toward the statues.

"Ahem... excuse the interruption in your... uh... moment..."

And once at a prudent distance (it didn't take long), I cleared my throat and began to ask.

"Are you alright?"

At that moment, in response to my words...

(Sssshhhhhhh!)

Suddenly, the din of marble clashing against itself came to a dead stop.

"Eh...?"

The silence that followed was so heavy that I felt the air turning solid.

"... What's happening?"

Both figures, their stone bodies still vibrating with a trace of residual energy, fixed their polished marble eyes directly on me.

... I won't lie to you, I'm not sure how to proceed.

I mean, I feel those mineral eyes scanning me, evaluating every atom of my being, as if they were reading a book written in a language I didn't even know I spoke.

"Is this what insects feel under a microscope? Because it's not a sensation I’d recommend in a tourist brochure." (Whisper)

Regardless, despite that, I kept my polite smile plastered on my face, even as I felt a drop of cold sweat running down my neck!

On the outside, I was the image of kindness; on the inside, my mind was frantically reviewing all my immediate counterattack methods.

"...." (smile)

Behold... these are the fruits of my training... This is the art of wearing a mask!!

"Mmmgh... ach...!"

But just as the tension was about to break the barometer, I felt a familiar spasm on my shoulder.

(Not on my watch!)

Flora was about to launch another pollen grenade into the air.

(Fwup!)

Nevertheless, without breaking eye contact with the goddesses, but with the agility of a sleight-of-hand performer, I pulled another handkerchief from my pocket and blew her nose with an expert movement.

(....)

(...)

However, that small domestic gesture seemed to be the trigger for something, as both statues took a second to look at each other before nodding slightly to one another...

(KRA-AAAA-CK!! — THUD!!)

After which they made their move, standing up abruptly!

"¡¿?!"

Naturally, I jumped back on pure instinct, clutching Silver against my chest, as both statues rose in unison.

"What?!"

Immediately, there were no sudden movements or attacks; instead, the two figures leaned forward, kneeling with perfect coordination and lowering their heads until they almost touched the forest floor.

"Uh... girls?"

... Correction: their foreheads were hitting the ground and, with an impressive posture that even amazed me with its technique, they proceeded to hold a bow of such absolute and solemn submission that my heart skipped a beat.

"It truly is great potential..." (Whisper)

I stood there, blinking in confusion, as the weight of Silver in my arms reminded me that, yes, this was actually happening.

"No, wait... This is not the time for that! Could you please stand up? You're making me feel like a tyrannical emperor, and I only came here to see if you needed a glass of water... or oil... or whatever it is you drink... What am I even saying?!" (confusion)

The silence following their bow was so thick you could cut it with a high-end ceramic knife... And speaking of utensils, don't you feel like this situation smells like a three-star Michelin culinary disaster? (Escapism)

"Let's see, Mireya, let's analyze the ingredients of this strange stew I have in front of me..."

If reality were an avant-garde kitchen, right now we’d be facing a failed experiment in molecular gastronomy. Imagine someone tried to cook a dish without reading the recipe, mixing textures that should never touch. Here we have two pieces of what looks like Carrara marble—a cold, rigid, inorganic ingredient—that, due to some error in the ambient temperature, have decided to behave like softened butter. (Escapism)

(Vrr-vrr-vrr!)

Do you notice that consistency? It's like trying to emulsify a stone with egg whites. The result is this strange mineral foam that writhes, creating lumps of sound that remind me of the crunch of an overbaked rustic bread crust, but with the weight of a mountain. It’s a pure reduction of confusion. (Still in escapism)

Listen, the "chef" —whoever it is, because I certainly haven't turned on the burners— has managed to make the solid become malleable, like caramel that has crystallized poorly and is now emitting spasms of burnt sugar. It’s a slap to the palate of logic! It’s a dish that, visually, is a perfect sculpture, but when you taste it, it leaves that metallic aftertaste of "this is going to sit very badly in my stomach." (Escapism)

(Clink! — Clink!)

However, at that moment, a small tug on my sleeve intercepted my thoughts.

"Silver...?"

And looking down, Silver was shaking her metallic arm with a rhythmic insistence, interrupting my profound analysis of the "bouquet" of this marble marinated in the unknown. (pseudo-escapism)

(SLAP!)

But Silver didn't stop there, and with a slap, I regained my sanity!

"Auwch!"

Thanks to that, my thoughts snapped back as I felt like I had judged three seasons of an extreme cooking reality show; when in reality, according to my backup watch, in the real world, barely five minutes of deathly silence had passed.

("Momma...")

And immediately after, Silver stopped waving her arm, tilted her helm toward me, and, with a simplicity that left me frozen, uttered a single word that made me react...

("Massage.")

At that moment, at those words, my mind finally clicked as my eyes widened in shock, watching Silver point at both statues.

"M-massage?"

Trying to confirm, I looked at both the statues and Silver... It's not possible... Could it be...?

"Are you telling me that all this display, the bowing, and the earthquake noises were because... because they want me to knead them?!"

The shock was so absolute that I felt my internal operating system crash.

(SHHHHH-KRRRRIIIII!!!)

Let's stop time for a second. Just one second.

Look at the scene. We have a forest clearing bathed in the silvery, ethereal glow of twin moons, creating lighting so perfect it looks like a next-gen render. At the center of this natural stage, two female figures of a beauty that simply shouldn't exist are prostrated at my feet.

They are naked. They are sculpted with a mastery that defies human anatomy. And, to top it off, they have just raised their faces toward me.

(VROOOOOOO-GZZZZZT!!)

Their gazes weren't aggressive, nor empty. They were pleading. A submission so deep and absolute that it felt like physical pressure in the air. They were like two high-end culinary dishes that, after being presented with all the pomp, beg you to taste them before they get cold... but in this case, the "dish" weighs half a ton and could crush me if I move the wrong way.

"... Ugh... I-I..."

ENOUGH!! Don't look at me with those abandoned puppy eyes!

(PLACK!!!)

And so... I resisted... Slapping my own face with all my willpower... I...

"OH, WHATEVER, I'LL DO IT!!!"

... Miserably, I gave in.