On the busy highway, cars streamed past in both directions, their engines humming in a steady rhythm. Amid the orderly flow of traffic, one car stood out as disturbingly out of place. It swerved left and right without warning, veering across lanes as though a drunkard had taken the wheel. To any onlooker, its erratic movement was an ominous sign, one that made it painfully clear that this journey was unlikely to end well.
"Just a few more minutes… hold it in… hold it in… you'll be home real quick…"
The driver, a middle-aged man with heavy dark circles carved beneath his eyes, muttered to himself in a low, dragged-out grunt. His head bobbed forward as exhaustion weighed on him, chin dipping dangerously close to the steering wheel. Each blink lasted a fraction longer than the last, the hum of the engine and the empty road lulling him deeper into drowsiness.
Although nothing showed on his face, the man was gripped by extreme panic. His sleep attacks were acting out again, this time unpredictable, merciless and at the worst possible place. He was threading on really dangerous grounds. One wrong move or a few seconds of shut eye could spell out the end to his very being.
The middle aged man watched grogigly as the other cars, weary of him, clear the road but he knew. He knew nothing was going to save him today....then.
His eyes slid shut, his head dipping forward until it struck the steering wheel as his consciousness began to slip away. These were the moments he feared most, the moments when he knew that closing his eyes could mean the end of everything. The road, the speed, the darkness pressing in… there would be no second chances.
And yet, as the world blurred at the edges, a strange calm settled over him. He had few regrets, fewer things left undone that truly mattered. That realization softened the terror, easing his resistance as his soul grew quietly accepting of the outcome.
In this life, he was a genius of computer technology and game development. His works and creations were famous throughout the world, each release shaking the industry to its core. Many of his games earned the highest international awards, and within the field of game development, he was unofficially revered as the "God of Games." A title he neither sought nor denied.
He had lived a life of achievement, passion, and creation, one with very few regrets.
Perhaps the only regret he carried was that he never accepted the feelings of that pestering girl who, on countless occasions, had insisted he become her husband. At the time, her persistence had seemed troublesome, even amusing. Now, as her memories surfaced, they brought a bittersweet smile to his face, one tinged with warmth, nostalgia, and a quiet sense of loss.
'Maybe the darkness ain't that bad.' He thought, his last. But a few moments later he would be totally suprised
~(Alternate universe)~
*Subconscious Mental Plane*
Darkness stretched without end, not the darkness of night, but the absence of existence itself. There was no ground beneath his feet, no sky above him, no sense of direction or distance. It was as if his mind had been stripped bare and cast into an empty void. He did not stand, he simply was there.
From within the suffocating dark, a male voice surfaced, distorted and unstable, fading in and out like a memory he wished he could forget. Partly his and partly not.
"Do you really think someone of your level deserves… a girl like Amelia? …Hahaha."
The laughter dissolved into silence before returning again, closer now, brushing against his thoughts rather than his ears.
"Accept it… a lower-rank awakener scum like you will never stand beside a high-ranking beauty."
The voice had no source, no body and no direction. It just came and went, and every time its words were full of mockery and contempt.
Sometimes distant, sometimes right beside him, yet no matter how he searched, the darkness remained empty.
Then another voice emerged, softer, familiar yet earily unknown to him.
"Accept it, Dune… we were never meant…"
A woman's voice, gentle… yet the moment it reached him, agony tore through his chest as if something inside him had been ripped away.