This is the moment, the only moment, when we are revealed, when we allow ourselves to be seen by one who is watching with eager eyes.

Leila stopped by the catafalque and clutched her chest. She felt like she was falling, even though she knew her feet were planted solidly on the floor. The crowd melted into a faceless mass, a set. These were not people, only puppets, mere stage decoration. Leila was alone in the church, maybe in the entire world, and her heart ached with loneliness.

Her gaze penetrated beyond the walls, for the walls of the church were made of the same material as dreams; the wind blowing outside was nothing more than a sound effect. She saw the sky over the ceiling, and she saw through the sky too, saw the endless darkness of the universe beyond the stratosphere, the dance of dead galaxies following the meaningless, unfathomable rhythm of existence.

And for a moment, however brief that moment was, she could see beyond the aether of the universe, and she saw the Nameless Lords and the Great Lord himself, sleeping with eyes wide open, looked into the awful eyes that coldly contemplate existence without being a part of it. If there wasn’t enough suffering for his liking, not enough torment, he would close those horrible eyelids and then the world would cease to exist.

Only as long as those eyes kept watching could Leila and Csabi and Peter and all the people they knew exist. We have to suffer in all sorts of ways, Leila finally understood, so that we can go on suffering at all. Otherwise the Great Lord closes the book, and then there will be no present, no past, no future, there will be nothing but the Great Lord somewhere beyond time and matter, a place that Leila didn’t even attempt to understand. She only knew one thing now: that everything belonged to the past in the eyes of the Great Lords, there were no decisions, only the hours and the minutes, which like written words and sentences follow one another to give the Lords the illusion of a story.

Leila screamed and threw herself on the floor, scratched her face, turning it into a bloody mask. The crowd looked at her, some started to pray quietly, perhaps, they thought, perhaps a miracle happened after all. Indeed, it did. Leila crawled towards the priest on all fours, her blood dripping on the floor. She had despised the priest only a minute ago but now she understood that everything was fake in the eyes of the Great Lords, herself included, so now she crawled on the floor and kissed the priest’s shoes.

‘Take me!’ she whispered. ‘Let me become the Slave of the Great Lords! I’ll cut off my lips and nose, I’ll tear my soul apart, just let me serve!’

The priest smiled quietly. Leila’s father looked at his daughter through tears of happiness and pride.