The brittle veil of reality Sonata and August were forcing themselves to see—like looking at the view beyond a pane of glass—would shatter at their behest. Thus, they’d fall through the fracture and crash into a foreign land, or at least, one of them did.

He fell from the heavens like a shooting star from its apex, streaking across the blue skies and crashing into the green flowery pastures. The spectacle was one to behold, and the girl watched from above, stuck at a junction between worlds by brittle desire, still, she was stuck.

The body was one made for war though, and so he’d claw from beneath dirt, blood, and rubble, unscathed. He’d take a few too many moments to admire the landscape, as for why, it was nauseatingly familiar.

If he were to peer into a past only told, even if experienced through another immortal, the one watching, even if lied to before, he recognized it. It was a valley of flowers, just that, but that was enough to melt a mind raised on an iron island, salt and water to every possible end. He stood for a while, the innards he butchered to cling to life, uneasy.

The air was sweet, not salty, the wind pleasant, always, the sun’s rays dominated the place, yet he was colder than he was warm. The grass, the flowers, they were all real, authentic, they were nice, too nice even. It was magnificent, seeing the truth of what she had told him, for at least he knew, she had told him some truth.

Yet, he did not remember it in parts. The place, the Abstract, was a reflection of the world, before human’s glassed the planet in a futile bid at power. It was a view to behold, truly, but there was more still beyond exteriors of pretense.

He’d take a walk through the forest of flowers, and lowering himself to the ground, he dug, and he found what he knew to be true. There were hands, human hands, small, tiny, soft, coarse, tens of them, hundreds, thousands, millions, billions maybe, and as dastardly as their intentions were, he could not help but to shed a tear at their plight.

He had the eyes of ‘The’ Idea, gifted, and with them, he saw a past of sorrow. It was a sight, flowers from horizon to horizon, as for what they meant, regrets, dreams and desires, of all those that had died.

As for their intentions, stealing a body, a human one, through the mind and the regret they carried themselves, maybe they could live once more, and maybe the second time would be fair.

He had lost most what made him human—if not all—but seeing such a thing, a valley of such a thing, his heart pained. He had no time to mourn the loses still, as from the skies, darkness would fall like ash, and they’d arrive alongside it.

A cavalcade, they rode across the sky on horses, the first was snow white, it was specter, but from within all of that burning fog it let off, the gold of a crown and the limbs of a bow could be seen. The second was the red of blood, a sword almost its size hanging from its hand as it rode. The third was the black of a moonless night, the sky overcast to hide the stars, and it carried a scale. The fourth and final horse man, if they could have even been called that, was ashen gray, but he carried nothing, nothing but a name, Death, and a vortex followed him, a portal to hell.

They rode, destined to crash into the young lad, but they’d stop moments before him, looming above. He hadn’t been told everything, but he had been told enough to know those that stood before him. They were not the real thing, only a mere conjuring of the human mind, but they were still supremely powerful, by far the most powerful among all the ideas, or they should have been.

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They weren’t the real thing, but they operated the same, they were neutral, for the end of humanity was near, but it wasn’t then. They wanted to witness what was to come, and as if their arrival heralded a war, burning shadows fell from the sky. As the darkness dissipated, all manner of eldritch horrors, tales, legends and myths would present themselves.

It was scarce populated with few capable of inciting change still, and amongst the ranks were those who saw no other option, or those too weak to speak on their own behalf.

Among them, a werewolf, vampire, a princess of the moon, an undying bird of flames, a fowl grown too large to roost, a fire breathing lizard, a lion with a hawk’s head, all of it. It was one man against an army; and weak as they were, he still wasn’t expected to win. I would have said, ‘not even by his ally’ but he wasn’t an ally, not then, not yet, for then, he was bait.

The things that surrounded him, yes, they were monsters, yes, they sought conflict, but they were no less human than he was, or any other that had lived, for they spawned from humanity. One could even brave a limb and say, they were the purest form of humanity, for what are humans without their ideas, and for what purpose do they serve without their creativity.

August would be approached by the strongest of those not beyond the lines of peace or indifference, a god said to be old, ancient. Its face, tentacles dangled about its chest, its spongey skin glistening below the dim rays, its eyes beaming red, but all was difficult to see still.

If one was to look at the thing, no matter the amount of pieces their mind was scattered in, they’d see the same thing. He seemed to droop and warp, his body contorting, and even the world itself, yet none of that did really happen, for what it was, truly, was a god of madness, capable of bending reality to its will, bringing minds to heel. It’d approach him, and stopping moments before, it loomed above him, buildings tall, its shadows, and especially its bat like wings hiding him.

“Puppet of Fate… you know of her deeds, do you not…? So why side with her…? If you take our side, if you join us, we’ll give you all of our power, and we can all be free… What do you say…?” The thing’s voice penetrated August’s steel clad, yet rusting mind, and its voice was like winds over a mountain top, the waves of the ocean, and the silence of space, all at once.

“I know enough to know that no amount of power you have can combat hers… and what after you’re freed… what then…? If allowed to inhabit our world… what would you do…? To the people… to reality itself…? What you did here…?” The grass was real, and so was the sky, but as a human he could break all of it on a whim, with a singular thought, and all because of their actions.

“She has sent you here to die… you do understand that right…? The power you have currently is nothing… and as for those bodies… how will you find them if not without our help…?” The thing continued a bargain.

“Our minds… or at least yours is far above this… So, I’ll skip to the end and give you the proposition… again… I’ll use her power… and you can all be reborn as humans… like I was reborn… It will take a while… yes… but I’ll formulate enough bodies for all of you… How about that…?” The perfect deal.

“How long will it take… will we keep our powers…? How can we even trust that you’ll come due on your side of the deal…?” Skepticism, earned by the monster’s checkered past.

“If you want me to spell it out for you… I will, no problem that you’ve ever had has been her fault… and that’s knowing how shitty she is… she treated you better than she ever did me… she gave you everything you wanted… and extra… but now you feel entitled to more…? To be clear… I’m doing you a favor… I’m doing all of you a favor. Even after what you’ve done. So I’m going to need you to act like it… because I owe you nothing… in fact, I shouldn’t even be reasoning with your kind after what happened to me… because pray tell, if you care about me so much… you’d have killed Greed all on your own by now… no…?” There was silence for a few too many moments. “That’s what I thought… now move… and accept… or don’t… but move!”

The creature of gargantuan proportions would lower itself to a squat to look at the little silver man, shaking the entire place with its movements, or maybe it was its anger.

“Child… for that is what you are… a child… you have witnessed eons past… but you did not experience them… you are nowhere near your own self-perception, so I’ll tell you again… you cannot win here… What I am offering you, is a way out… of this conflict, out of an impossible war… and you’ll listen…” The thing’s beaming eyes painted a grim picture over August.

“Okay… So you’re not moving then…?” He’d look up at the monster, meeting its gaze.