Life

He had done it. He was free. The punishment was over. Infinity and uncertainty no longer bound him.
He drew a deep breath and felt the air fill his lungs — a sensation unlike anything he had ever known. The coolness within his chest, the gentle rise and fall of his ribcage, the crisp energy coursing through his veins — all of it was astonishing. He had succeeded. Now, he inhabited a human body. A mortal, limited form.
Why, he wondered, would anyone choose to live inside such a primitive shell, knowing that the end was inevitable?
Perhaps that was the point, he thought. To know it would end. To be trapped inside boundaries. Maybe that’s where the beauty lies.

As he exhaled, he noticed the air brushing past his lips. Problems that had weighed on him for what might have been millions of years by human measure — burdens of hardship, of the unknown — seemed to flow out with the warmth of his breath. He wet his lips lightly with his tongue. The sensation was exquisite. Now he understood better why humans seemed to derive such pleasure from what they called kissing. Despite the limitations of this biological vessel, the possibilities for touch and sensation felt infinite.

Curious about the warmth on his face, he opened his eyes — but at first saw nothing. A dazzling light, like the shimmer of stars, filled his vision. Slowly, shapes began to emerge. The warmth he felt was indeed light — the sun’s rays caressing his skin. It felt as though the sun itself was charging him, as though its touch could dispel all the darkness in the universe.
This must be what they call happiness, he thought. He smiled instinctively. He could feel his cheeks, chin, eyes, and forehead all moving together in harmonious concert. Meanwhile, a cool breeze touched his skin, as refreshing as the air he had just inhaled.
To exist and to live — they are one and the same, he mused.

A sudden sound startled him. His body flinched, moving instinctively before settling still. Turning toward the source, he glimpsed a rabbit darting past. It seemed alive in the same way he was. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that gaze he searched for meaning — but the rabbit quickly disappeared into the underbrush.
Perhaps it was saying: Go. Don’t stand still. Explore.
In that moment, he longed to hear everything, to see to the farthest reaches — but his body would not allow it. The human form was limiting. He felt a surge of frustration — the inability to know, to see, to control — the restrictions of this fleshly vessel gnawed at him. The more he tried, the more failure met him.
Something began to shift within him. His body grew warmer; his muscles tensed. It felt as though meteors were colliding inside his brain. The more he failed, the more violently they crashed.
This must be anger, he realized. A yearning to break apart, to burn up like colliding stars.
And yet — soon after, this too gave way to happiness. For to feel anything was a gift.
This is life, he thought.

Hours passed. He grew more accustomed to his body — to its senses and its limitations. He moved with greater ease, in sync with himself. He breathed in the fragrance of flowers, listened to the delicate symphony of the forest. The insects, the trees — it seemed they were speaking to him. He felt their presence deep within. To realize that all life, though brief and fragile, existed in harmony — it made him cherish every step, every heartbeat, all the more.

When he returned to where he had begun, he savored anew the scents, the textures, the shifts within his own form. Night had fallen. He marveled at how humans constructed their concept of time around such changes — but weariness swept that curiosity aside.
To compress so much life into so little time, to be forced to choose among countless experiences — perhaps that, too, was a kind of gift. Time was precious only because it was short.

He felt tired now — like the humans he had once observed — but curiosity refused to let him sleep.
He pondered the edges of his senses, and the infinite spaces that seemed to lie within those edges. He moistened his lips again with his tongue, his fingers tracing across his face. As he explored his skin — across cheeks, neck, brow — a deep pleasure welled up within him. It was as though he was gathering the warmth of all the stars into his body, magnifying what humans called happiness.
Like a newborn, he continued to discover his form. Each touch opened new awareness. He marveled at how the network of nerves transmitted signals, how this quickened his pulse, how it created shimmering waves of pleasure within his mind. He touched himself more, driven by curiosity and growing delight.
The thought of sharing such sensation with another body stirred a new, thrilling excitement within him. His need to explore every corner of his form only grew, becoming an irresistible pleasure.
And at last — just as when he had exhaled before — he felt a lightness wash over him.
He was alive.
Truly alive — with every cell, in every sense of the word. Not merely existing.

As he drifted toward sleep, thoughts of all there was left to discover filled his mind.
Life was beautiful — but fleeting.
To live more, he would need more energy.