A consciousness slowly stirred from slumber. A dreamless rest, full of nightmares.
Nightmares he wished to forget, yet they remained embedded within his mind, gnawing at the edges of his awareness.
A faint trembling jolted through him, his weak body shivering in reaction.
Fingers and toes twitching ever so slightly.
His face was marred with agony, writhing from a lingering hurt, an ache that plagued the deepest, most unreachable parts.
At last, his two golden eyes opened in torpor, heavy and silent, as he watched.
...
'How did I get here?'
...
'I'm still alive...?'
...
'This is not my home...'
...
'I don't belong here...!'
...
The familiar thought that had often recurred throughout his lifetime still perplexed him, confusing him even more than it had as a child and making him ask even more questions in return.
Such as, "Why? How? If he did not belong anywhere, then where did he belong?"
The mortals would have called them "probing questions."
But he was not a man of conflict, nor one of confrontation, often choosing solace, never fighting battles he could not win.
Whether verbal or physical altercations, he had always considered himself a peacemaker.
'But... is that really true?'
As he searched his memories, he could no longer trust that construct.
He was left in uncertainty, helplessly clueless, because he knew it was unlikely that he had been a calm and peaceful man.
It made him wonder who he was.
Was he a man of conflict, fear, and anger, or was he a sorrowful person of grief and regret... maybe even a joyful one?
The answer was there, teasing him at the back of his mind like a nostalgic place with no name.
But it wasn't as though picking a personality was like picking fruit from a tree.
'It is much more complex. Humans were not so simple after all... No. I was not mortal. I was neither man nor human in that regard.'
But either way, it didn't matter anymore.
Because the pain was still there, and it wouldn't fade.
Instead, he was the one fading away.
He was dying, he could feel it, and that feeling was absolute.
But maybe it was meant to be. Maybe his end was inevitable. Maybe he was content with it. He might have even deserved it.
Perhaps it was the real ending he had wanted since before eternal rest.
But in the end, he had awoken more tired than ever. And so, he wished to go back to sleep, to have his solace, to dream dreamless dreams, and forget the nightmares.
To fade away peacefully.
'Peace.'
The term was important to him.
'But why... why do I need peace?! I no longer suffer... I no longer despair.'
He no longer felt anything, and yet he felt so much.
He could only wonder.
Was it like this for the mortals who roamed his home? Did they feel like this? Did they know this emotion well?
He wanted to ask. He was adamant in doing so, but he was also repulsed by the thought.
His only reasoning was that humanity knew nothing, understood nothing.
Not anymore, at least.
...In a way, he was similar.
He did not remember why he wanted peace, but... even if he gave up on that dream, he had nowhere to return to, nowhere to belong.
He had no home.
For his home had fallen a long time ago.
'The humans I once admired now cease to exist. I will join them soon. Truthfully, they had been gone long before their deaths.
Back then, humanity as I knew it had vanished without a trace, leaving without ever knowing why.
Mindless creatures, unaware of their own decay. Tiny husks of flesh, walking aimlessly. Relationships forged across lifetimes, broken in a single instant.
Empty life in a seemingly empty world.
They had abandoned their world, as their creator had abandoned them. But at least, in the fleeting time they had left, they stayed true to themselves.
It was only rig—'
PAIN!!!
So much pain...! An excruciating pain.
It was everywhere. Immediate. Undeniable. As clear as day, and yet it was finally fading. Pulsing faintly, like a heartbeat losing its rhythm.
Or was it that he was just closer to being erased?
Maybe his fragmented memories were the reason he did not care as much as he should have.
It could've been the cause of his detachment, of the ineffable emotions he felt, of his unwavering judgement.
If he had just one more chance at life, if he went somewhere else, would he change?
His understanding that he may not live had been delayed, almost as though it too had been erased.
But it seemed to have finally caught up to him.
Flashing in his mind like an ember refusing to surrender to the cold.
Like an instinct, something terribly feral and cruel, as though his sanity had almost slipped away.
But being content with dying was already insane.
Even if he was not against, even if he did not welcome it in open arms.
How could he possibly escape this fading?
'This pain, will it not follow me wherever I go?'
'If I returned home, would it follow there? If I stayed here, would it eventually vanish?'
He did not know.
And so, in his lack of understanding, he made a gamble and pulled on his anchor.
—
Then...
Warmth.
And then, crimson light.
The fading ceased, and so did the pain, feelings flooding back as he took a breath of fresh air and crashed into an unfamiliar world.