It can see what is out there and what is out there can see it. It sways with the rhythm of whom it listens to. It crashes to the inexistent edges. 'It' is a sort of a cluster of invisibility but with powers to regenerate 'him'. Those who are chosen are kept at the bottom, near the dark tunnel, to exit to the unknown. The rest honours them with grace with the traditional ritual. Youngsters are kept at a safe distance away from the occurrence whilst then elderly and the adults begin the process. Carefully, they go around in twirls like a hurricane, resulting those who are chosen to sink to the bottom, reaching to the darkness of tunnels. The beat stops and a part of it is gone. It shrinks and shrinks and shrinks, without knowing what is happening. Those chosen starts to flow in 'him' like a water fountain defying gravity. Entering the suffocating atmosphere, they enlighten the air with oxygen and strength. And that is the last of them..
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