I had a nightmare.
I dreamt of an abyss of eternal darkness. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. My body felt numb, and so were my thoughts. I was floating in the nebulous darkness that stirred and rippled every once in a while. Countless stars filled the vast chasm of nebulous darkness. I saw the stars all around me, above me and even below my feet. Speaking of my feet...
I looked down and realized I was floating. The feeling of weightlessness was soothing. Calming. There was no pain in my body anymore, no wounds... no fear. I felt the cool wind whisper something vague and unclear in my mind...
I felt reassured, safe even. I felt calm and at peace. I did not wish to leave. I felt the guidance of the nebulous abyss, I knew what it wanted. I understood it. It wished to give me the solace i sought. The promise felt true. I closed my eyes and smiled. I felt something move inside me, the draining out. Slowly at first, then at a startling speed.
I am calm. How was I so calm? It did not any sense. I have always been... I have always...
What was i like again? Did it really matter anymore? Did anything matter. I opened my eyes and looked at the stars stretching infinitely in all directions. It was beautiful. The most beautiful sight. I had never seen something so enthralling before, I think...
The abyss promised eternal peace and solace, why did it feel do wrong? Why did I feel wrong? Why did I feel lost? Why was I so confused? The abyss offered me what I wanted, did it not? Then why did everything feel so eerie and wrong? Where did it come from? Where did I come from? Who was i?
No, who am I?
Am I still dreaming? Am I dead, again? Again... Why am I thinking that? How am can a person die twice? Was I even a person? I cannot understand my existence. I do not know who I am. I feel lost and empty. I feel numb. Why body and mind feels numb. I can feel my very fragile existence fading. I have been trying to speak, but nothing comes out. I probably do not remember how to speak as well.
The vast chasm of nebulous darkness stirred and rippled once more, but i am already aware. I am aware of my absence, unless I forget again. That would be unfortunate. He looked around. What am I doing here anyways? And why did my head hurt so much? Why did my heart ache so much?
He tried to move his hand, but nothing happened. He tried again, and again, and again. Nothing happened. His hand remained still, as if invisible tendrils held them in place. Somehow even though he had no memory of anything, he still remembered that feeling of helplessness all too well.
Well, at least there is something I can remember, even if it is just a feeling. I still cannot remember what caused me to feel that way. He sighed... or at least tried to. There is no air, but it does not seem like i need any. That should tell me something, but what? What am I supposed to remember anyways? What am I missing here?
He had regained his thoughts, but not his memories. He still had no idea who he was, and he had come to be. How he ended up in this state. His first suspicion was that he was dead, but somehow that feeling was familiar as well, and that did not feel like it. Even though he had lost all concept of existence - and even death itself - he had to learn to trust what he felt, even though he did not even remember the feeling. Or how to feel for that matter.
He could feel, or at least something that was akin to feeling. A small, obscured resemblance of it. Something like muscle memory perhaps. He might have forgotten what dying felt like but his body and mind did not. They would give him subtle signs the more he thought about death. That meant a lot, right? Right.
He reached deeper into his mind, his memories, but found nothing. It was dark and empty, much like this abyss. The only difference was that his mind had to stars to light it up. It is hard looking for something you do not know. Whether that thing exists or not. He did not stop though, instead of reaching into his empty mind, he tried muscle memory instead. Even though he had forgotten what that meant, he still trusted his body - or consciousness - would inform him if he was onto something, and it worked...
He dug deeper and deeper into his very existence, and finally something happened. The felt the darkness stir under the palm of his hand, as if moved by it. He tried it again and again still, until the darkness was orbiting his whole body. He remained indifferent to this change, not exactly sure if he remembered how to feel about it. But his muscle memory told him this was good thing, so held onto it.
He continued this for few very long moments and felt his control over the vast darkness spread far and wide, reaching the stars. They moved as well, as they stirred around he saw something else weird about them. So brought the nearest one to him, using the darkness as a medium. As the star got closer, he realized that it was so star in fact, it was shining brightly either. What he saw was a glasslike transparent shard...
He brought the shard closer so he could take a good look, but before the shard could get closer, it simply shattered in countless tiny sparks. The white sparks moved - on their own this time - and entered his chest. Just as he was contemplating what had just happened, he was suddenly somewhere else.
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The sky was dark and crumbling. The moon was shattered into a dozen pieces, its pale moonlight illuminating the lands below. The landscape themselves, were nothing short of devastated. The world was drowning in a golden incandescent fire, that burned everything in its wake. The ground itself was almost entirely destroyed, with pools of magma seeping from its depths.
The saw the Apocalypse, the end of the world.
He saw something else too..
He saw a giant being towering more that ten metres in height, kneeling on the the ground veiled by the crumbling sky. Storms of battle raged around it, but it did not pay it any attention. It held its giant greatsword as a support and it watched the darkness rippled in front of it. The kneeling giant wore a beautiful, pure crimson armor that no mortal can even comprehend. It had intricate and complex designs that almost seemed alive..
He looked at the designs on the giant and then something hit him. He was not looking at the giant, instead he was the giant. But the confusing part was that he had no control over his body or mind, he could only feel what it felt, think what it thought and see what it saw. He did not feel so good. Countless gruesome wounds littered his entire body, and golden-crimson blood seeped out of the wounds relentlessly.
His emotions were so vast and complex, that he felt his existence fade away the more he tried to perceive or understand them. The hatred the giant harbored against the rippling darkness in front of him was unexplainable. So he stopped trying to. He stopped reading his thoughts either. He just became a mere spectator, looking at the dying world in the eyes of a vast and powerful giant.
The darkness in front of him moved once more. Precise moments this time, not just stirring randomly. It shrunk and became more impenetrable. He saw another giant reveal itself in the receding darkness.
Suddenly the air was filled with nothing but a feeling of dread and death. The giant wore an obsidian armor and weilded a giant mace of the same material. Unlike him - the kneeling giant - the darker one had no wounds on his body. It was in a prestine and flawless state. The giant had four horns and human-like build, with two pools of deep darkness instead of eyes.
He suspected that he had the same build, considering he did not feel like a monster at all, and neither did his face. He did not feel any horns either. When he frowned under the golden helmet, he realized that his facial features were human-like as well. Except the tyrannical will that washed over him like a cleansing tide...
The giant walked over to him and looked at him in the eye. Fear wshed over his very being. But he had his pride. The pride of the giant was as vast as its hatred, so he did not shiver. He looked back at it. The looming giant grinned and said in a mocking tone:
"Blood Weaver, the infamous Weaver of the Night. The Blood Lord even the gods were wary of. The sovereign who ruled over the heavenly realm of cultivation itself. How pathetic brother. You now kneeling front of a god you had once deemed unworthy and weak. Your arrogance truly knew no bounds, dear brother."
The giant spoke in an ancient and distorted tone, but he still understood it. Since was not in control of the kneeling giant, he had no idea what the thing was talking about. So he simply kept quiet. The voice of the Obsidian Giant was not as rough as he thought it would be. It was not as domineering either. Which was not to say it was not dangerous.
The voice was like a myriad of hopeless prayers and screams, like a poet of chaos woven together by an eternity of suffering and torment. The Obsidian Giant meanwhile continued:
"But the gods lay dead now brother, i killed them, and you are next. I must commend you really, for surviving this long. But this charade had to end soon. We could have built a new world of cultivation together, but you chose to side with those old fools. You have hurt me too much brother, and you must pay the price."
The Golden Giant - Blood Weaver as it called him - remained silent again, but he did feel something else stir inside him. Another emotion too vast for him to perceive. Regret, anger... contempt maybe. He was not brave enough to peer inside the emotions of a god, he knew that for sure.
The Obsidian Giant raised its giant mace high up in the air, but before it brought the mace down, something else happened. The air around them suddenly changed, becoming more oppressive. The fact that he could feel this oppressive presence means that it was coming from the Obsidian Giant.
The giant in question continued looking into his eyes, but something felt different. He was not just looking at the kneeling giant anymore, he was looking at something else. As if looking into his very soul. No, this one different, but quite close. He was looking at something else, deep inside Blood Weaver.
Then its eyes met his very existence itself. His existence independent to that of Blood Weaver. He did not even know that was possible, but here it was. He felt the giant's gaze penetrate his very concept of existence, exposing him to his will. Then, the grin on its face suddenly turned mischievous
"And as for you, human wrench. Do not think that climbing the path of cultivation will save you. Even in death, I will find you and I will kill you. Remember this name *** and do not dare forget it. Your predecessor has already paid for his crimes, now it is your turn. I will erase the existence of this forbidden lineage, even if I have to break the laws of death."
Then, his head exploded into a thousand pieces. The giant mace had finally descended upon his head. He lay ofln the ground motionless, dead.
He saw nothing but darkness once more.