The Grand Revival: Round 3 - St. Masimodo

wondered about his existence.

wasn't sure whether he was dead or alive; nor whether he ever had been.
had been powerful in another life, unchallenged in death, and when he had
returned he had expected to be invincible.

But now, sat in a pile of trash in the slums of Masimodo, forced into corporeality by one whom
he remembered, faintly, gently, almost tentatively as if memory itself was reluctant to speak,
skirting the probing edge of consciousness like a grasshopper leaping from place to place.

^{"okay pencils down this is waht i got"} - the only marker of 's existence that he could remember
now. Further back, he remembered when he was nothing at all; when he had been nothing and
everything, one over zero amongst the universes.

He remembered, ^{in short,} nothing.

lifted an arm; a very human-looking arm - and pulled himself from the garbage. found he wore
a raggedy cloak, and in one hidden inside pocket a small butterfly blade. pulled it from its
hiding place, and twirled it open in its hands - it felt good. Its reassuring steel convinced that
he could protect himself; and could stay alive.

Then looked at it closely, and saw on it the gilded symbols; and knew - right then - that the
knife was his; on it was ascribed 's name.

The steel,

of course,

was blank.

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SpoilerJust keeping in with the title :3