"Ugh…!"
"I can… feel something…"
"It's starting again… over and over…"
Golden-yellow eyes pierced through the darkness. Five fingers pressed together, searching, feeling for something. The tip of one finger brushed against the icy stone beneath. A single spark of light emerged, moving past the fingers' touch. It spread across the void, scattering stars and shadows above gravity, revealing millions of celestial bodies from nothingness.
A drop of blood trickled from the eye. As it fell into the cosmic scene, it passed through and landed on the stone. Yet, despite this strange sensation, he could not tear his gaze away from the sparkling light.
"It… ugh! I've found it… again!"
The words cracked and choked in his throat, tremulous and uncertain, before he forced a faint smile and a soft, shaking laugh. Among the millions of lights, one flickered and broke, unable to shine—damaged by some anomaly. The light separated from its surface, a missing fragment incapable of becoming a star or spark. It was like a mind without thought, without meaning, yet everything continued and changed.
"Yet some things cannot change. They progress, advance… creating miracles alongside decay…"
The strange thought ended in words, a murmured speech, almost a transmission of consciousness. It moved like information sent across invisible frequencies, stopping worthless drops of blood and extinguishing light within darkness.
…
Dreams formed images beyond thought. Apartment buildings crumbled, streets filled with cars belching smoke, consuming everything. Hopes and life became unreachable visions. Awakened from the long dream, the mind was renewed, inhaling the natural air and healing its tainted soul.
A deer licked the young man's face. Its pure gaze met his darkened eyes, then it bolted at the cawing of a crow echoing through the forest. Night's darkness passed quickly. The young man lifted his hands to his head once again.
Time moved on. He paused to rest, drifting into sleep from exhaustion. A strange premonition awakened as paranoia, forcing him to scan his surroundings. Something had occurred, though he could not perceive it. Observation became vital as the crow's cries moved from the high hill down to the forest below. Whether it marked territorial defense or an approaching threat was unpredictable.
In the present, securing food and avoiding the crow's path were crucial. Under a sky divided into three colors, fear remained ever present.
His legs regained strength, stabilizing his body. Step by step, he crept through the forest, always hiding behind trees. A single step against the grass created ripples, testing his courage. At the forest's edge lay a serene meadow, where a dozen sheep grazed in neat lines.
A lamp's light glimmered at the far end of the flock. Victor quickened his pace, running toward it, pausing only to catch his breath. The sheep scattered, yet not far enough to cause real concern.
Looking up, he caught sight of long brown hair, illuminated by the lamp, shining honey-gold in the light. A young woman stood still, gazing at him. Her delicate face looked like a painting from an ancient artist, her white dress overlaid with a floral shawl of earthy brown across her shoulders. Soft blue eyes, pink-tinged lips, and smooth, fair skin reflected in Victor's gaze.
He sank to the ground, exhausted. Though broad-shouldered and strong, his empty stomach made him feel feeble. His eyes followed the grass swaying in the wind; cold mist brushed his lips, seeping into his lungs and chilling his heart.
The floral shawl was draped over his shoulders. She placed her lantern on the grass before them and sat opposite him. Her leather satchel opened, revealing half a loaf of bread and a small bunch of grapes. Before he could speak, she offered a grape. He accepted, cautiously.
Victor's suspicion lingered. He braced his last strength, ready to defend himself, but she smiled, cheeks flushed with warmth. Her lips caught the lantern's glow; her hair swayed in the wind, turning the cold air warm.
A glass bottle appeared in her hands. She pointed at it, then to her lips, and offered it to Victor. Relaxing slightly, he realized she acted with sincere intent to help a stranger.
Victor drank the grape-infused water, its sweet-sour taste restoring his energy and easing his wariness. The young woman rose, adjusting her skirt, lifting the lantern, and guiding Victor toward a nearby wooden house.
A one-story house with small windows, adorned with colorful potted flowers, evoked artistic beauty.
"Will you let me stay here?" Victor asked. She nodded.
Inside, she stoked the fireplace, dust swirling around. Warm light erased the cold, spreading through his body. To the left, a living room held two chairs before the hearth; to the right, the kitchen featured a dining table. Victor sat, observing photographs above the fireplace: the young girl in childhood, with a man wearing a white shirt and brown vest, reminiscent of Western revolutionary-era attire.
Exhaustion and comfort allowed him to sink into the chair. The crackling fire and creaking wood provided a rhythm to the stillness. The girl sat across, penning something in a notebook with care. Swift strokes formed words:
"My name is Ophelia. What happened to you… who are you… why are you here alone at this hour?"
Tilting his head, Victor considered her intent. He responded politely:
"I'm Victor. I got lost in the forest and can't find my way. I don't know how far this place is from civilization. Do you know where the nearest town is?"
She nodded, writing again:
"There is a town west of this forest. I will take you there in the morning."
Victor exhaled in relief. After so much confusion, he could finally hope to return home and escape these unreal dreams.
"Thank you. I didn't know what would have happened if I hadn't found you. But… do you know about the three-colored sky?"
This time, she shook her head.
"What do you mean? You've lived here long, haven't you?" She nodded.
"Do you know which country we are in?"
She wrote once more:
"Republic of Venn."
His face went pale. Words failed him, his breathing uneven. Looking out the window, he still saw the divided sky. The reality of his situation became clear.
He staggered, falling, covering his eyes with a hot breath. When he removed his hands, he saw a number engraved on his palm:
'1'
The last memory turned into a scream, blood flowing across his body, his eyes unable to bear the light. Perception corroded as fractured thoughts consumed him. Something temporarily dominated his being, until his body and fragmented soul settled.
After the descent into darkness, after falling from the three-layered sky, he began to understand. His gaze swept across the empty air outside the window, connecting all the scattered images in his mind.
Victor sat back in the chair. Across from him, the girl was replaced by a man.
Blond hair, long and flowing, clad in white robes, amidst an atmosphere reminiscent of space over dark water. The man cried, face heavy with emotion. He approached Victor, who could neither move nor resist.
A strange metal pierced Victor's chest. His eyes shook; he could not fight back. The man seized his throat and lifted him into the air.
"From now on… vanish from the stars…"
The words faded as the man's head fell from his shoulders. Victor plunged into the cosmic abyss, surrounded by countless lights. The flames in the fireplace returned, his heavy breathing turned the warm atmosphere into searing heat.
Above the weight of sensation, his eyes trembled, scanning the room. Everything returned as before. Ophelia sat across, the engraved number '1' still visible on her palm.