His eyes opened.
Reflected darkness.
That wove him in.
Never let him go.
He screamed.
Swung around.
While endless darkness broke in.
Filled everything.
He writhed on the ground.
And suddenly he fell.
He fell into a nothingness.
Dark.
Full of blackness.
And then he suddenly stood.
On his legs.
That trembled.
Scanned the darkness.
With his large eyes.
That flickered around.
Hunted.
Full of fear.
And then he fell again.
And stood.
Fell.
Stood.
Fell.
Through blackness.
Cold and evil.
Chains that held something of him.
And then he stood again.
It was a world of shadows.
Black.
Full of darkness.
No up.
No down.
No time.
No space.
Only blackness.
Whimpering he twisted.
And ran.
Slid through the shadows.
Moved.
Yet was only half.
What was he doing here?
Why was he here?
Tears ran down his cheeks.
Dipped.
And dried up in nothingness.
Who was he?
The hoarse words escaped him.
Quietly, then louder.
"Who am I"
He screamed into the emptiness.
The tears flowed.
His body trembled.
And he collapsed.
Curled in loneliness.
Without hope.
In a sea of blackness.
"Who"
He whispered softly.
"Who wants"
Asked a mocking voice.
His head jerked up.
And he stared.
From red eyes.
Into shadows.
"Who" he swallowed.
Gathered his last courage.
"Who is there"
"Who wants"
Came back.
Accompanied by mocking laughter.
He balled his fists.
His gaze hardened.
He tried to straighten up.
And stumbled.
Hit hard.
Into the darkness.
His breathing quickened.
Slowly he lifted his head.
Stared into the dark blackness.
In his gaze raged a battle.
His rage.
Against everything else.
He tensed his muscles.
A scream.
Bone-shattering loud.
Escaped him.
And he heaved himself up.
Trembling, he crawled on his knees.
Through nothingness.
Grasped into the blackness.
And pulled himself higher.
Straightened up.
Trembling from exhaustion.
He set one foot.
Then the second.
Looked up.
Into the darkness.
There.
With dead eyes.
Tormented by himself.
Thus he towered upward.
From the black terror.
"Who am I"
He whispered.
"Who do you think you are,"
mocked the voice.
He breathed faster.
His fists clenched.
"I don't know,"
he whispered.
"Do you not, or do you want to not?"
it asked.
"I don't know."
His head was lowered.
He looked down into black.
"Do you not?"
it asked.
From the darkness.
He tore his head up.
Stared with bloodshot eyes.
Into nothing.
"I don't know!"
he screamed.
Who was it that spoke?
The darkness?
The nothing?
Himself?
His thoughts rushed.
Made it impossible to think.
But one thing burned in him.
One thought.
Overshadowing all.
"Am I dead?"
he asked, weary.
The voice giggled.
Full of delight.
Like a small child.
"No, you dream."
"Dreaming,"
he asked.
His voice trembling.
His body.
Distorted by shadow, shook.
"Yes, dreaming,"
answered the voice.
Full of mockery.
"And do you still want to dream?"
He stared.
In the direction of the voice.
Into nothing.
His jaw tightened.
And he drew back.
Nervously scanning the darkness.
"What want?"
The laughter came.
Was everywhere and nowhere.
As it pierced the nothing.
And made him tremble.
"To know who you are,"
answered the voice, giggling.
He froze.
While his breathing quickened.
And hope burned within him.
It seemed the endless black.
That lay before him.
Grew brighter.
Only for him.
Only now.
"Yes,"
he forced out.
"Please."
The shadows around him.
From everywhere.
Began to gather.
To form.
While a giggle swept over him.
Silent yet full of force.
And the shadows solidified.
Came together into a shape.
Slowly it raised one hand.
Then the other.
Took a step.
And another.
Toward him.
He looked at it.
Astonished.
And stared at it still.
The figure.
Of darkness and shadow.
Of the blackest black.
Began to run.
Slid toward him.
Hands outstretched.
Cut through the darkness.
He stared.
Unable to move.
The only thing he saw.
The shape.
As black as nothing else.
It came.
Closer and closer.
Seemed to grow.
To become darker.
With every centimeter.
Then it was there.
So tall and so dark as never before.
It loomed.
And broke apart on him.
Shattered into a thousand shadows.
That dissolved into nothing.
But accompanied.
By a whisper.
Soft and fragile.
"Phantom."
It had slipped into him.
Glided through his head.
Chased away his thoughts.
"Phantom,"
he breathed.
While a life crashed over him.
Blood. Death. Destruction.
And Phantom.
The shadows fell from him.
Ruigh exhaled, trembling.
As he whispered one word.
"Phantom."
A hand laid itself.
Firm and sure.
On his shoulder.
"Well, got it now, kid?"
asked the mocking voice.
Ruigh froze.
Trembling.
With wide eyes.
He turned around.
Stared at the figure.
Now clearly visible.
"Uhra,"
he breathed.
The other chuckled.
Grabbed tight.
Clutched his shoulders.
"Not Uhra, more a figure of your imagination."
He chuckled.
"Goodbye, Ruigh, it was truly a pleasure."
Ruigh flinched.
"No, wait, I still have questions."
He swallowed.
Tried to break free.
From Uhra's grip.
"What is this place?"
he screamed.
Kicking wildly.
But then his strength dissolved.
Piece by piece it faded.
Vanished from him.
Until he hung.
In Uhra's grip.
Like a puppet.
Uhra smiled.
"Oh, Ruigh."
He drew back.
And shoved him away.
"Only you,"
he whispered.
"Uhra,"
he screamed.
As he fell.
Plunged through immeasurable darkness.
Suddenly the shadows rose.
They parted.
And a rift opened.
Let light pour in.
That swallowed everything.
Uhra.
Far in the distance.
Raised his hand.
And waved.
A wide grin.
Spread across his lips.
Then he crumbled.
Piece by piece.
His body began to smoke.
Black fumes rose.
From shoulders.
From head and arms.
From the heart.
Until his entire body.
Had dissolved.
Into shadow.
That was the last thing he saw.
As he fell through the rift.
And everything turned bright.
The sun shone brightly down.
Hung in the blue sky.
Bathed everything in warm light.
Stroked over Ruigh.
And the meadow.
The vast meadow on which he lay.
The grass.
Of bright green.
Tickled him gently at the ear.
He raised his hand.
Touched his head.
"What was that," he murmured, exhausted.
He pushed himself onto his elbows.
Pressed himself up.
Sat in the grass.
And looked around.
It was a wide plain.
A meadow.
Warmed by the sun.
He ran a hand through his hair.
And sighed quietly.
Where was he?
"I should probably walk,"
he murmured.
Slowly he rose.
Came unsteady to his feet.
And started walking.
Ruigh walked across the meadow.
The grass rustled.
With every step.
That he took.
It was a single green sea.
Of grass.
The wind howled.
Brushed through his hair.
Tossed it.
And swept across the meadow.
Played with single blades.
Like a child.
It was his only companion.
For a long time.
They wandered hand in hand.
Ruigh and the wind.
And then something carried to Ruigh.
Birdsong.
He listened.
Stretched his head.
And spotted trees.
Countless trees.
They sprouted from the earth.
Proud and lofty.
On them danced birds.
They were beautiful.
Colorful they trilled their songs.
While the wind carried them.
Ruigh came closer in awe.
Step by step.
He stopped.
Before the trees.
And the birds.
They chirped on.
Did not even notice him.
So absorbed they were.
In their songs and dances.
Ruigh entered the forest.
Crossed through it.
The trees were small and sweet.
At first.
For with every step.
That he took.
They grew larger.
More massive.
Until they scratched the very clouds.
And then they stopped.
Replaced.
By gray hills.
Before Ruigh stretched.
Gray and dead.
A hilly landscape.
He left the forest.
Entered the new.
He climbed one.
The nearest hill.
Bent down.
Ran his hand.
Slowly.
Across the rough gray surface.
His face twisted in surprise.
"Concrete," he murmured.
He stood up.
What were concrete hills doing here?
He sighed and walked on.
Through the hills.
And again.
With every step.
Every glance.
The hills changed.
From hills to shapes.
From shapes.
To buildings.
In disbelief Ruigh approached a block.
A large concrete block.
Window and door.
He turned.
Spun around himself.
How could all this be?
He asked himself quietly.
As he walked on.
The concrete blocks vanished.
They were replaced by.
By houses.
Large gray houses.
Ruigh looked around.
In wonder he stroked the wall of a house.
Smooth and rough.
It clung to his fingers.
Suddenly something grabbed him.
He jerked his head up.
But there was nothing.
Yet he felt it.
Invisible they were.
The hands reaching for him.
The restraints that seized him.
His body trembled.
He jerked his head around.
His eyes flickered wildly.
Searching for something.
In the distance.
Shaking he took a step.
Completely uncontrolled.
Then another.
Inside he fought against it.
Against this relentless will.
A next step.
Clumsy.
Then came more.
Piece by piece he walked.
Ran between the buildings.
Pulled.
By one thing.
He ran and ran.
While before his inner eye an image formed.
A house five stories tall.
With large windows.
Overgrown with ivy.
He heated himself.
The image before his eyes.
Now he passed houses.
Closer together.
Than before.
More modern.
A city.
He did not notice it.
But only ran.
Ran. Ran.
And ran.
The image burning into him.
And then he stopped.
Before him it towered.
An old building.
Five stories tall.
Huge windows.
And overgrown with ivy.
Ruigh stared at it.
In disbelief.
His eyes flickered across the house.
Checked every inch.
He backed away.
The enemy base.
It loomed before him.
Dark and cold.
He was in Karuka City.
"That can't be," he whispered.
Slowly he approached.
Placing one foot in front of the other.
His eyes fixed.
Straight ahead.
On the house.
His breathing came in bursts.
As he stepped inside.
Dark shadows enveloped everything.
Submerged it all.
And held it tight.
The hallways.
Through which Ruigh now walked.
Were twisted and dark.
He turned a corner.
And stopped.
Stared down the corridor.
Where he had fought.
Unleashed a blaze of fire.
But now nothing of it remained.
The hallway before him.
Still and peaceful.
No trace of the battle.
Ruigh turned his gaze away.
Lost in thought, he wanted to move on.
But then a force gripped him.
Incredibly strong.
Stronger than before.
It rose within him.
Tore him.
Lured him.
He breathed heavily.
"If you brought me here," he shouted,
"Then you can take me further."
He let himself fall.
Into the pull.
That lured him.
That drew him along.
Everything blurred.
Before his eyes.
Rushing down the hallways.
Guided.
By this terrible urge.
Gasping.
Hands pressed against the wall.
He turned a corner.
His eyes widened.
The urge faded.
Melted away.
And revealed what Ruigh had lost.
He saw himself.
Running.
Close behind.
Uhra.
And in front of Ruigh.
Far ahead.
A figure.
Ruigh stared. Disbelieving.
"Aren," he whispered.
No darkness surrounded him.
No blackness.
To veil his thoughts.
No pain came for him.
To paralyze him.
Only one thing.
Clarity.
It surrounded him.
Purified everything.
Washed everything away.
A clear flow.
Aren had been there.