Fisher seemed to have had another dream.
His consciousness was muddled, like the state before the birth of stars, unaware of where he was or where he was headed.
He just felt himself continually falling, endlessly falling.
After a very long time, he vaguely realized he had come to a stop, in a place so dark one couldn't see their hand in front of them.
The surroundings were terrifyingly dark, yet not confined; standing still, Fisher faintly sensed the salty, cool, slightly fishy sea breeze brushing against his face, and from a great distance, he heard the sound of waves crashing against the shore.
"Splash! Splash! Splash! Splash!"
The frequency-less sound of the waves should have been a comforting white noise, but for some reason, to Fisher it sounded particularly irksome and unsettling. A layer of goosebumps crept up on his back, making him involuntarily want to escape.
