Chapter Text
Cold. Horribly cold. Painful. Terribly painful.
But the cycles have gone by, and these sensations have become numb. So familiar, that the simple idea of existing without those was impossible to conjure. No, rather: any idea. Nothingness, emptiness. Every sense was drowned by the faded melody he had heard for so long that it might have been playing since his awakening, for he did not know anymore.
Who was he? The idea of self was long gone. He was no one, nothing. Ever simply a presence. Or maybe less than that.
His surroundings brightened. It took him until his vision was bathed in gold to lift his head. His eyes, blurred with the time, could not portray the presence facing him. Something huge, something shiny. Something holy.
It was staring at him.
His speakers cracked - glitched, broken by the cold and the mold. No word came out, only a jumbled mess, barely audible. It has been long, so long, he forgot how to speak. Until finally, something gave in, in a last effort, or a last breath.
“You’ve come…” The giant presence watched ever so silently, yet, in its silence, he could feel a gentleness, a warmth. “My time… Finally…” The purple pearl fell to the ground. Its fragile shell, eroded with thousands of usages, gave in, cracking itself on the metallic debris. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. Because he could sense it. It was over.
For a fraction of a second, as his eyes closed, a clear image of the being in front of him got imprinted inside him, its qualia replacing everything he could ever remember, which was barely anything. A beautiful creature of gold, gentle eyes under the red marking of a sun, its face beautifully embraced by a mane, seven red lights surrounding it. He whispered, struck in awe. “So… Beautiful…”
“You’ve forgotten me.”
The divine voice that rang in his head would have sounded familiar, if it weren’t for everything he has ever been replaced with the beauty of the God - but that did not stop a powerful melancholy from pouring over his mind, and he found himself unable to grasp the reason why.
“But it is of no importance. It will soon be over. You will be freed.”
Golden tendrils surrounded his meager shell. He did not move - perhaps was he in a trance, or perhaps his processors finally gave in. Basked in a golden light, his body became light, so light, like a feather, like a snowflake, like a spec of dust. He was ready, he has been ready for so long.
Yet, he could not explain why his dim eyes opened again, to look at the divine one’s face; and why he could sense a deep regret carved in its mask. Its voice lingered in his mind.
“I am sorry.”
And then, nothing remains.
***
I’ve watched it happen again and again,
(haunted by) a thousand kind beginnings,
and a thousand bloodied ends,
I shouldn’t play with fate,
But what if once I could make you safe?
***
His consciousness stirred. The sound of a droplet ringed in his ears, the humidity caught all of his senses. His eyes opened to the unknown; a place far away. The cold grey of stones, the dark green of leaves, the black of the crawling shadows. Many questions rushed in his head as he splayed out on the bare ground.
Where was he? Who was he? What was he? Only the form of a beautiful being remained in his memories; and three words spoken in a divine gentleness. I am sorry.
He begrudgingly rolled on himself, as if incapable of doing more than a slug. A sharp stone propped at his skin, and instinctively, a wince appeared on his face. Pain? He had long since basked in pain, to the point that its absence felt unbearable; yet this one was new, vivid, flaring at nerves that he never felt, triggering a reaction he never had. It made him realize. His body was heavy, organic; he needed to breathe, to blink; his heart was beating, his muscles were awake, his brain was registering his surroundings. He was alive, in a way he had never known.
With a cold rush through his spine, he summoned strength out of thin air, enough to make him jolt awake. He sat down, the very sensitive palms of his hands against the cold stone of the ground. His orange cloak, tattered in dirt and snow, protected most of his body from the cold, but maybe not enough. A cloud of mist escaped his lips, he shuddered, rolling up on himself, his body trembling. He needed warmth.
His head desperately rattled, his vision brushing the entirety of his surroundings; his eyes were blurred, but wet, filled with tears. A red light, far away.
Red.
Like its face.
A drive possessed his body; he crawled towards the light, like a moth to a fire, desperate. His clothes shredded on the stones on his way, picking at branches, leaving orange threads, and slowing him down. With an instinct, one that he found himself unable to explain, he stopped his movements, before raising his body on his knees and hands. A leg moved up, its long foot against the ground, his weight shifting on its toes. The second leg followed, and soon, his spine straightened up, his upper body rising from the ground. His hands found nothing but the emptiness to hold on. He was standing.
A step. Another step. The structure of his legs - digitigrade - felt deeply strange. He trembled, he was cold, but his eyes refused to look away from the light. Clumsily, he missed falling and meeting the ground again, but managed to hold on to anything on his way; the walls, the poles, the plants, the stones. Making his way to the flame, until he reached it. A simple lamp against the wall, its fire lit. Warmth.
He gave in - his legs could not carry him anymore, and he fell on them. His arms braced over his body, as more mist escaped his mouth. But he could feel the gentle warmth of the fire, like an embrace. Like the tendrils that had held him, the feathers that fell on his body.
Safety.
He felt safe.
***
The metal rebar clicked against the stone, lodging itself steadily. He walked up, his weight on the spear he clutched at, his naked feet fraying a path on the frozen floor. His other hand held up the lantern, its fire fighting against the snowflakes that threatened his life.
He did not know where he was going. Yet, he kept going. In a hope, the slightest hope, that he will see it again. His guide. His God.
Something inside him coiled up, staggering his weak body. He stood here, his teeth grinded in a wince, as sweat broke from the pore of his skin. He needed something, desperately. His stomach was aching, paining him.
Eating.
Food.
Like a voice in his mind, his newfound instinct guided him. With pain, he directed himself towards an unknown path, in search of something, anything.
Moss against the wall, freezed from the cold. He stared at it for a minute, before falling to it forward, dropping his clutch to grab at the plant, ripping it from the wall. Crystals of ice followed, mixed with wet dirt, and he did not hesitate for an additional second to stuff his findings into his mouth. In an innate action, he chewed, feeling the barely visible minerals against his teeth, filling his mouth, and rasp at his tongue. He coughed, the sensation of disgust that poured at his body causing him to spit what he could, leaving trails of saliva and dirt against his cloak. How utterly ridiculous. How useless.
His lungs grasped for air, and the taste of dirt remained inside his mouth, in every part of it, and no amount of saliva he got out helped to get rid of it. He clumsily grabbed at the rebar he had dropped, but instead of using it as a support, leaned against the wall. The cheek that came in contact with the cold stung at his facial muscles, and he closed an eye, a deep sensation in his brain paining him. He sighed, shuddered, trembled.
Something appeared in the corner of his eye. A yellow shadow. He raised himself up, turning to the direction of the movement. A creature - if it could be called such -, adorned with one big eye, four tendrils. He squinted at it, its unique eye staring back. An idiotic thought crossed his mind; could this be eaten?
But the strange apparition disappeared in the ground, leaving no time for him to chase it. As he tried to take a step, the creature reappeared on the wall right next to him. It was incredibly fast, its movements unpredictable. Nothing he could catch in the situation he was in.
An arrow. A light was cast on the wall, coming from the one-eyed construct. He stared at the hologram, dumbfounded, but realized; he understood its meaning.
Go there.
He obeyed; allowing the overseer to guide him through the tunnels, arrow after arrow, pointing to a direction he ignored, but was faithful in. A room, far underground, shielded from the snow. It seemed like a dead end at first glare, but a small mechanism could be seen on a wall. As for the yellow overseer, it jiggled at the ceiling, a green hologram pointing at a blue, round object, hanging from above. A symbol, horizontal lines cut by one vertical line.
Food.
He stared at the strange item in his hand. To grab one was far easier than he imagined. His height - compared to most creatures inhabiting this place - had played to his advantage. The blue object did not look like anything he knew, but who was he fooling, he knew nothing. It resembled a fruit, yet not. With a hesitant look to the overseer, he could only notice how this one seemed to await for the moment he would take a bite. His brows furrowed, and he finally gave in. After all, once you tried to eat moss, there's barely any reason to be hesitating about trying something else, especially when it was shown to you by a guiding presence.
His teeth plunged into the dark blue skin - this one seemed squishy, but weirdly crunchy, as it broke under the pressure. A dark fluid escaped the cracks, dropping into his mouth. It tasted sweet, but strangely thick, like blood would taste. Something pink, but very soft, was inside, like a really plumpy guimauve candy, easily breaking in his mouth. Its texture was strange, it felt like no plant. Rather, fleshy.
He banished the thoughts in his mind, and finished his little meal. No matter what this was, or how it tasted, it was far better than moss and dirt, and maybe more nutritional, which mattered. He grabbed at two others of the fruits (for the sake of his mind, he preferred to believe that was what it is), and quickly stuffed them in his mouth, voraciously.
The fire next to him flicked as a cold wind blew, not missing to give him a shiver. The yellow overseer started to jiggle around, alerted, darting across the room to reappear next to the mechanism on the wall. A door. A hologram pointed at it, a strange cube symbol displayed. He did not know this one. Yet, he followed. This guiding creature had given him food, what reason was there to not trust it?
He slid inside the narrow entrance, pushing his lamp forward, hoping to not get burnt on it (he already learned the lesson after getting too close), and soon fell into a bigger room. It was not similar to what he's seen before - it felt artificial, a cube, with traces of moss and rust on its walls. But what was more surprising was what was inside.
A body.
It did not move. It could not. The remains of what used to be a creature, its fluffy pelt a brown color. Two spears were laying at its side, and a glowing object, in a beautiful orange hue. It was warm. Not as warm as his fire, but comfortable enough.
A crack. The entire room vibrated, and the mechanism of the door behind him closed. He panicky rushed towards it, trying to force it open, unsuccessful. He was stuck here.
He dropped his cane, and fell on the floor, next to the corpse. Exhausted. His eyes could not keep up. He rolled up, bringing his knees closer, bracing his arms around them. With a quick glance to the dead creature, he hesitated. Something inside his guts told him to not get near. Danger flashed in his mind. But his seek of comfort and warmth won over. He carefully laid down on its fur, bringing the orange item close to him, the warmth of this one unharmful, holding it in a hug. The smell was hardly comfortable, crisping his lungs with each breath, but he decided to ignore it. He needed rest.
Something he had never gotten before.
***
It was warm. It was soft. Like sleeping on a cloud. His eyes opened, but only a blinding light answered, forcing him to close them back in pain. It took several seconds before he dared to look again, in a squint, allowing his now sensitive lenses to adapt.
Gold.
So golden.
He looked up. The familiar face of the God was gently observing him, its expressionless eyes filled with warmth. It did not take him long to realize his situation; his body was carefully embraced by the serpentine body of the divine one, its blessed feathers rubbing at his skin, basking him in light. Yet, despite the fact that this situation did not match the last memory of his surroundings before he passed out, he did not feel the need to get up. It was all so easy, to lay down in this familiar embrace, to soak in the feeling of safety, and drift into a beautiful sleep. Perhaps what he had lived before had only been a bad dream, and maybe it really has been over, and he had truly left. How amusing, to imagine that this is what the afterlife looked like.
But he could not stay here, could he? He needed answers. Sluggishly getting up, holding on the ethereal body of the God, he looked up to its beautiful mask.
“Who,” his mouth opened, and his tongue moved, producing a sound unlike anything he had heard. Somehow, he still remembered how to speak; and the instinctive action of making his vocal cords vibrate seemed all too natural. “Who are you?”
There was no answer. Only the beautiful hum of the limitless world around him.
“Who am I?”
The white eyes of the God closed, leaving its face completely black, besides the striking red markings.
“This answer, is not mine to give.”
Its voice sounded like the growl of thunder, but, he did not feel scared; only a deep feeling of safety.
“Then… where am I?” He weakly looked around, seeing nothing but a sea of gold and light, floating feathers around.
“A dream.” it hummed, its eyes reopening. “You will wake up soon.”
A dream. His antennae (a strange feature: it seemed inorganic, yet made of flesh) lowered. “Was it all a dream?”
The God shook its head. “No. All is real.” It looked up, far to the sky, if the above could be called such, as if pondering, or sensing something. “My time with you is limited. I will not be able to protect you at all times, and our encounters will only be occasional.” It looked down again, at the confused expression of the pink one. “Go to the east. Past the tides. Meet her. She will give you the answers I could not.”
A clawed paw, much bigger than his body, appeared from the mass of feathers. It moved near him, and he did not move, allowing one finger to brush his cheek. It was warm, like a hand similar to his cupping his head, and he could only close his eyes as he leaned into the blissful sensation.
“I am watching over you.”
The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself back in the shelter. The fire of the lamp he had brought in had been extinguished for long. Only the glowing shell in his arms provided him warmth now, and the fur under him had heated up with his prolonged presence.
***
He sighed. It seemed like this creature was far from giving up. Standing atop a platform, he could only watch below as a green scaled animal beared its fangs at him, growling nonsense, desperately trying to climb up, but its heavy body and small claws stopped it from doing so. He could not complain. But how is he meant to leave? If it refused to give up on his pursuit, he could just as well freeze here. The lamp he brought back from the shelter was still clutched in one of his arms, his spear in the other, but it could not bring enough warmth for him.
The yellow overseer pointed at the animal through a hologram, flashing red signs of danger, danger, a more useless indication. He did not need to be told so to understand, the simple look of the creature made him know that its powerful maw would not spare him, and that its pointed teeth would tear at his flesh.
He had no choice. He had to make a move.
His first choice was to run away. He looked at his surroundings, analysing every bit of it. He could try to jump to another platform that led to an exit, but the distance was too big for him to leap. He could attempt to jump above the lizard, but he had little confidence that his feet would be able to receive the weight of his body without failing. He could carefully move down, and sprint as soon as he reached the ground, but by the time he would be below, the lizard would have already taken a bite at his legs. And it's not as if he was entirely confident in his ability to walk - so running was out of the question.
The hologram of the overseer had changed symbols. It was no longer showing danger; it was a spear, directed at its body. A few images flashed on the wall, showing a similar lizard blocking a spear thrown at it with its sturdy head, before switching to another one with spears logged in its back. Aim for the body, avoid the head.
Seems like he had no other choice. He will have to fight.
His body was still weak, he doubted that one throw would be powerful enough to pierce at vital organs. He had one spear, the one he used to move around. He can not mess up.
Where should he aim?
Its body was covered in sturdy scales. Its head was rough and hard enough to deflect objects thrown at it, and he doubted that the patch of fur that grew on its nose was any less protected. At first sight, there was nowhere where he could do significant damage with one throw. But he found two.
One was the eyes. Very small, they were not protected with any strong skin, or else that lizard would not have any sight. If he were to pierce one, he could heavily disable the creature, or even kill it if he were to press hard enough to reach its brain. But this was a risky option. The erratic movements of the animal made the small targets that were its eyes very hard to aim. The chances of failing were too high.
The other one was its mouth. A much bigger target, and one that the lizard displayed a lot by growling and attempting to take bites at the snowflakes. If aimed well, he could damage a lot, including its throat, and probably sever vital blood vessels, leaving it to bleed out.
This seemed the best option out of the two.
Now: how? Surely a throw would be too weak. His muscles were far from enough, not to add the cold that made them even more useless. If he were to throw the spear at this distance, it would not have enough velocity to pierce flesh.
The only best to get it to would be to put his whole body to it. A risky decision, but the best one.
(It was strange, these calculations he made of his surroundings, the possible paths of each choice, to find the best outcome. It felt as if he had done this his entire life, countless iterations in an attempt to find an ending, to… what? What did he used to look for?)
He stood at the edge of the platform, the lizard right under him. This one growled again, as if each cry would make him come closer (there was little intelligence to expect from a lizard). He filled his lung with cold air, the freezing sensation waking up every part of his brain, allowing the first urge to take hold of his body, and leaped. His spear pointed downward, his fall made him drop like a bullet, right to the lizard. It opened its maw, looking up, expecting its prey to fall right into its belly. Instead, a flashing pain. The sharp end of the metal bar pierced at his black flesh, and he used the weight of his full body to press harder, under the pained cries of the animal. Well, the weight of his body - he was rather light, and if it had been its scales, he doubted it would have been enough strength to pierce. Thankfully, the flesh of its inside was soft enough, and he made full use of it to destroy everything he could on the way of his weapon.
This one eventually pierced right through the throat of the lizard, its end propping under it, having pierced the softer scales of its underside. It caused the lizard to flail its head in a deafening cry, and he had no choice but to release the spear if he didn't want to find himself projected against a wall. But surely, the damage he had done was enough, even if fear washed over him when seeing the lizard still moving.
With a few steps backwards, widened eyes and a pulsing heart, he looked at the animal crawling on the floor, each movement resulting in the rebar to move, causing more pain as blood spilled out, melting the snow under it. After a long minute of agony, the lizard went unmoving, laying down in a puddle of its own fluids.
He did it.
And this - was more than great news. He could defend himself. Surely, against a stronger enemy, or more than one lizard, he would have died. But that was a start.
Tension left his shoulders, and the effects of adrenaline faded, causing a sudden wave of fatigue. He carefully approached the corpse, picking up the spear after making sure that it would not wake up suddenly, and removing it from its maw. Now, he only stared at the bloodied body, catching his breath.
Was it edible?
He can hardly imagine being able to bite on these scales. But if he could manage to tear a part of flesh… He looked at the overseer, who settled next to him, examining the body. It wasn't displaying the food symbol, nor any symbol for that matter. Maybe a good indicator that he shouldn't try, but, counterpoint being, he was hungry. And proteins might do him good.
He kneeled down, observing the dead lizard, before trying to roll it up on its side; accessing its more sensitive belly would make the whole tearing down easier. But that was if he could do that, because currently, his attempts went unsuccessful. This beast was too heavy to even be moved, let alone be turned around. He let out a deep sigh of exhaustion, and instead leaned to its maw, where opened flesh was already easy to access, even if the idea of eating something that was mixed with blood and saliva made his appetite lower. With his spear, he managed to tear at a small bit of flesh (with great difficulty, the muscles of the creature proved to be particularly strong, and the vessels that connected its bloodstream refused to snap), just enough to fit half of his hand.
That thing was reeking. It was bloody, sticky, black, like an oily deposit (so, the least appetizing thing he could think of). He winced, but still decided on stuffing it in his mouth. No matter how disgusting and untasteful it was, if he swallowed it fast, he wouldn't have the time to let his body complain.
Maybe disgusting was an understatement.
He immediately spit it out, his mouth filled with the pungent taste of blood. The chunk of meat fell in the snow, and blood stained his cape. Again, he felt like an idiot, for trying to eat about anything he found. But again, he was desperate.
His eyes darted to the overseer, who wordlessly looked at him. If he felt any playfulness, he would have jabbed at it, “at loss for words?”, but as it happens, it wouldn't make his situation or the shame any better. He could only limp past the corpse, and continue his way, while occasionally spitting what remains of blood and flesh was in his mouth.
A shadow loomed over him. Then, the sound of a gush of air - he looked up in fear, noticing the fastly approaching shape of a giant bird. His heart jumped in his chest, and adrenaline resurfaced, causing him to dart away, very clumsily. He avoided most obstacles on his way, but a misstep caused him to hit a stone, and fall in the snow. Despite the pain, he managed to turn around, looking with terror at the vulture, sweat and snow covering his face, sensing his body heating up despite the cold. But, the flying animal seemed uninterested in him; it flew upward, the corpse of the green lizard held in its bill. With a release of pink gas from its body, it ascended to the sky, soon disappearing from his field of view.
For a few seconds, he only stayed here, laying on the ground, processing what had just happened. Fighting a lizard had been hard enough; he had no wish to face a creature like this one.
He managed to gather his spirit again, soon standing back up, and the panic in his body remained when he hurried to an underground passage.
***
Many creatures inhabited these grounds. Lizards of many colors, swooping vultures, some of them much bigger than others, long centipedes that seemed harmless, outside from their disgusting forms, but was found to send lethal electric shocks when he first saw one kill a lizard with ease, and let's not forget the dropwigs, one nearly causing his death, and if it wasn't from its poison, it would have been from a heart attack seeing how it dropped from the ceiling without a warning. If there was any way to do so, he would have started a record of each of these animals, taking notes on their features, their habits, and most of all, their weaknesses. But as it does happen, there was nothing for him to write on; only his memories. Seeing how these ones failed him, he could only wish to remember all of his discoveries as clear as day.
Surprisingly, he seemed to do better. With each new cycle, he eased, and his steps grew with confidence. He had been running, climbing, hunting; granted that these activities took a toil on his frail body, but this one seemed to build itself up to accommodate this new lifestyle. Something he appreciated, making his endeavors slightly more bearable.
His quest to the east seemed to progress. Despite this, he was entirely blind to the path forward - where was he? Halfway through it? More than halfway? Less? He of course only hoped that whoever he was meant to meet would be behind the next wall, but to his disappointment, it seemed not.
Who was it, even?
Her. Having the answers to his questions. Would it be another God, like the one that watched over him? Or a mere creature, no different from the ones he met so far, but wiser, and gifted with speech?
Past the tides. He had not seen any body of water so far. He might be far from it. He sighed. His only choice had been to follow his cowardly companion, whose only use so far had been to point at directions.
A choice that led him to the most exhausting climb - even if he did not weigh much, his body was still not strong enough to carry itself. And, whose idea was that to put a long, thin pole, as the only access to the direction that the overseer was insisting on? If it had been on him, he would have refused, and searched for another path.
He was out of breath by the time he reached the top platform. He could only let his body fall on the cold steel, his mouth wide open to take as much air as his lungs could fill. His heart was drumming in his chest with such speed that he was convinced that it would burst. At this time, there was nothing he could do, only wait until the drop of sweat on his forehead stopped to fall.
A yellow light. Despite his condition, his head snapped up, his eyes widened, and a surge of relief washed on him for the second he noticed the light. But much to his disappointment, the one he would have loved to see was nowhere to be found; instead, a hologram on a wall, displayed by his yellow friend. It showed a circle that erased itself, much like a loading screen, taking about ten seconds, then displayed symbols - numbers - that counted to ten. Then the circle reappeared, taking five seconds this time, and disappeared again, at the same frequency as before. Numbers again, then circle.
He had no idea what he was looking at, and his current situation really did not help. His whole body was shaking from his irregular breath, that seemed to not calm down despite everything he tried. He would have asked, if his body allowed him to, but it was just as useless. Not like that one-eyed creature could reply to him.
The holograms changed. It showed a figure, very similar to himself, with a side view, mouth open. An arrow pointed at the inside of the mouth. The circle was displayed next to it, and after ten seconds, it disappeared. The mouth of the figure was now closed, and the numbers to ten. Then, the mouth opened again, an arrow pointing to the opposite this time, with the circle reloading.
It repeated.
It was… breathing?
Was it trying to tell him to breathe?
Breathe in, ten seconds. Hold on, ten seconds. Breathe out, five seconds. Repeat. He followed the instructions, forcing his eyes open to keep track of the time he needed to do each action. He was unsure of the point, but he was ready to trust this magical little being with his whole life.
Until he realized that he was breathing normally. His body was no longer trembling, his heart had calmed down, and the world had stopped to spin around. He continued the exercise by habit, but slightly accelerated his breathing cycle, now that he calmed down.
So it really had helped him.
The overseer stopped its hologram, then joyfully (or at least he guessed) jiggled around, while the pink one stood back up. Looking at the creature, he gave it a slight nod.
“...Thank you.”
Thoughts nonetheless appeared in his mind. Why was it helping him? What was its goal? It didn't need to eat, or survive. It seemed alone, and he had never encountered any other of its kind before. He did not mind the company and the help, very far from it. He owed it to his survival. But questions about its origins remained.
I am watching over you.
Was it…? His eyes widened. That made sense; the eye of the God, keeping him safe. Maybe its yellow color had been a hint all along.
Yes. If he had to pick his favorite color, it would be gold. It had brought him so much, kept him safe and sound, for his whole life.
Yet, a faint whisper in the wind murmured in his ears.
Did it?