Vision distorted, a clear window to the memories of her long forgotten childhood. Not forgetting them, just locking them away... her life lived on as if she was an average person, not special at all, just the oddball and outcast that got to where she was now by some strange circumstance. Nothing more and nothing less, is that the story her mind was thinking, subconsciously creating her? Or maybe, an event that will change things, cause a twist of fate, like so that those in power may notice and feel a pang in their hearts for this woman, who lived her entire life doing nothing but finding or causing trouble, to suddenly not act so oddly and act like a complete normal woman, and behave normally as a person. No need for fancy behavior, mannerisms and or sophistication to the extent of being akin to a nun of god's, no need for such. An uncommon goal is to find 'family', yes a family she desires.

Someone. To be one to be a whole. Yes. Wasn't that simple?

It was as if a vulture suddenly broke the sky with its shrill call of life, a mere gurgle would have caught its attention. Indeed the cry would break one's ears, would shatter their soul. Even if they are immortal and cannot truly feel the despair of their screams, not truly hear the call that she and they could make, no one would be spared its torment, regardless of their fate, or their rank. Yes. This vulture could change the lives of even the mightiest. The monster of heaven above the seas, as they say it. Akin to a vulture, she was given her chance to soar the skies, see the beauty in the vast blue void and learn. 'One cannot escape what will occur. Nothing can alter the future. Just don't mess up and make the mistake you did when you made the plunge.'

The air, when they jumped down onto the vast and colorful beach, a mirror for the moonlit skies, seemed to instantly solidify, freezing instantly, before melting just as fast, leaving her body sticky and dirty, feeling dry and pained. To be useful for just a tiny moment, her body couldn't bear its weight anymore and collapsed, vomit pouring all over her clothes and the warm, salty brine tasting water hitting her skin and lungs.

Yet, as she tried to stand upright, it gave up on her. Wasted no more strength. Though all she remembered was being suffocated with air, not even one, not even her friend could have looked on with disgust and hatred.

Indeed, all it had caused was chaos and mess, yet there she was, trying to be serious as ever and she looked like shit, drowning in an endless tide of water and all the sand and salt stinging her skin. What caused such behavior to take its turn on her... surely not an afterthought, the feeling and experiences could have become nothing, worthless and pointless to her. Yet the emotion and experience left upon her would fade... If she dies.

How about trying to attempt something of worth?

This 'vision', could it be a hint toward her subconscious or one's own thoughts? Or is it possible and might indeed be one's own creation... There cannot be more than one. But not being able to prove oneself could prove difficult. If so, all can only be surmised as a fleeting moment with no true meaning or use, could simply be for 'motivation and learning' or to at least hold a solid concept of strength. For her part, she'd just rather it just a test of survival skills and awareness.

That's the best she could do.

Any dream-like image or hallucination of visions, with knowledge and sights not accessible by any mortal or human means, shouldn't have this nature about it. That way is fine. 'Death' is not an easy option. So much emphasis put on it... and yet so few of those 'exiled' would see it through. Why does that feel so unfeasible, in every situation, regardless if it is the first or tenth time they encounter this 'knowledge'? Does everyone 'seem' not to have any form of memory, when they possess knowledge of the language and see something within them? Is it the moment they die or the second they've awakened and know too well the significance of it trespassing and traveling inside the soul? No. Then why is the emphasis placed on it?

Then there should not be this question...

If the entity can remember, and the last bit of clarity still rings within him and keeps him thinking... then Alice, herself, would probably end up succumbing to the insanity that 'awakening' grants her and creates, all her will and vigor, gone. Thus, the insanity that Eskra warned and knows about can become her truth.

"The truth is ugly." Eskra commented, this statement seemingly pointless, completely out of context and unrelated, in a way, yes. Something to be reflected upon by the two people. However, it has gained and already became clear knowledge to them, and to a larger amount and greater extent, has become their foundation and way. Their true existence was altered to their worst possible degree, without giving them the chance to say or think anything in regards of it or against it. Thus Alice was almost rendered voiceless and brainless, just as Laz was.

Both are unaware that he had only left out her mental 'disintegration', by focusing on the task he has chosen, on 'delving further into the unknown', this focus that the goddess wanted and believed that he'd possess or develop was done to further make sure her eyes could watch his deeds and his actions. They hadn't known, yet something inside, their very essence itself... a feeling, knew and said it was truly destined, they, somehow, should already 'be able' to understand what they couldn't see or comprehend. Though perhaps understanding isn't mutually exclusive with ability, the latter can simply be as complex as knowing, however the meaning is the main source of the challenge... not merely 'telling someone what the object they see does or how it works.' It should be a separate thought...

"Hey... How is 'one' truly one?" The vision didn't leave her mind. No matter how many times she asked herself or replayed the words. If it didn't come from an entity that lacked a distinct physical presence, would this seem so 'random'?

Zabulus replied, "You are not only Alice," He said, he did. As she put him down on the colorful pebbles on the bottom, his neck rotated fully. His mouth let out a cold laugh.

'Some of what he speaks is false. There will be no light for you. Nor darkness... Instead, a pure, infinite white will surround you, should you continue to follow him. Surprise and shock, mixed with fear, disgust and disbelief will greet you, your body will freeze and melt in a split second, from within and without, you'll be nothing.' The voice within Alice spoke.

Zabulus continued his earlier spiel, "Once you saw something very small in you. I recall a spirit. Is that 'spirit' what guides you now, that one self who also desires power?" Hand on her temple as she sat, staring at the multicolored 'blackness' of his. The seas and waters, along with the glowing oranges, purples and greens that was reflecting across the area, with sand shifting beneath her, but she didn't mind. Zabulus—Guillerme's body was safe. She saved him, and though her motivation may have been lacking at this moment and made this a trivial situation for her, she was in the right place, feeling only a small chill coming on, rather than extreme burning of his temperature.

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She wondered, sometimes. To find 'someone else' within her. Was that 'presence' the reason behind her occasional hallucinations, the hazy visions which ran wild across her vision? An unknowable, almost abstract fear she could never find or understand, for a wake from her vision. A warmth growing between her eyelids and growing large, the vision seemed so near, that small space and space that connects to the sea of sand.

This 'Laz' in the back, somehow looking at everything in front of her with this illusion, the smile had faded into that of an outright serious expression, and an odd, yet happy tone in her voice, could mean more, with an emphasis placed on her last words, as the connection, the truth, the fate has shown the true self of Laz. "When do dreams end, stranger, G...Zabulus?" She asked this 'Laz' whom she did not know. She asked Zabulus whom she did know. She was like a child that can easily ignore the bigger picture of what they think they should try to accomplish. The feelings grew, with the simple act of seeing someone and being reminded of what a soul and its desires might not be something that will exist. But whether they existed or not, should they keep ignoring it? The importance of this is most likely not worth mentioning, since it did not affect her decision on whether to try it or not. Though, the difference between an emotion and a reaction to an action should not be overlooked either, how should she 'react' to seeing this figure she has encountered once, an encounter that had no real beginning and definitely no true end to the feeling... An interesting thing was, was this world within her a distorted mess, a damaged and battered wreck, torn and riddled with holes and cavi... no... That is not accurate.

Is all there, a nightmare of pure irrationality, one filled with nothing but illusions and lies and a void of uncertainty and mystery; or is all just empty of any such? To her, now, perhaps not then, but currently she needs to confront her desires of either pursuing the feeling she possesses. She wants something and a familiarity of sorts, the one which she didn't share with any and every one, only with this forlorn entity that came and visited her more often, oftentimes late and randomly.

Zabulus confusedly responded, "A long long time, as it happens, until your demise... Since we met and began." 'Laz', to her, heard Zabulus saying 'what?' with much less passion and volume, sounding slightly curious, with more disappointment, a reaction that showed how he truly felt, no how he would have felt.

"But... It's been thousands of years!" She didn't listen. Her body and face were no longer stiff and immobile. A heat boiled, her skin would begin to fry like a fried frog with the flesh sizzling and curling... then the boil. "J-just... Just when... does it all end... I'm tired...! I can no longer even tell that I've seen all things once, or none." When she finished her sentence, the reaction Zabulus gave was obvious enough that she didn't need to speak or mention the fact.

"Are you feeling better now that you've screamed?" the body of her love asked. He hadn't changed a bit, and of course he wasn't asking rhetorical or similar, "Listen, I..." He needed to lie, to sound convincing and gain her heart once again. "I am sorry, for whatever my body has said, and that I forgot. Really. If that helps me right the wrong, then I would not hesitate in doing so." As a double and triple check, he 'looked' into her torn up face, even its lips, its eyelashes, its brows and so forth, didn't show one single tear, her sadness... 'Alice. Why does my blood flow and my heart race? With so much anger and hatred?' Then he continued, "Alice... I need you with me, I need you... to save me too... Alice, give me a sign... anything that you'll listen and won't forget. A new goal, an old one. I won't fail you... I swear."

Truly, a satisfying feeling, the blood flowing, a short hot feeling to add to her existence. Tears would flow from her eyes, as she broke down into sobs, a loud, embarrassing, childish and whiny fit, no, she could keep sobbing for some hours. Although that moment might have felt good to cry, he would also understand and respond by trying to calm her down.

"Please Alice, do not cry. It pains me to... see you cry... Like that."

It would seem that a pretty 'ok' dialogue had unfolded. All her emotions running and her wanting to 'take hold' of some sort or kind... all this, was indeed beautiful and earned, is how she saw it. After many thousands of years, she stopped being the gluttonous beast she was known to be, the epitome of sin she'd been recognized as, to 'stop being the wolf's slave'. How far would a mortal venture?... That... 'a second choice' was really the truth of this man, the change that occurred within him after all his years? Nope, not at all. The actual second choice was her second 'chance' to have some rest. For her, Alice's will is not all she sees, the colors in her own eyes that guide and accompany her will are not enough. She always has, and always needed someone else with her.

It was the mark of the first real error and 'shame'. The guilt and regret had finally started to leave her. She had decided to reject their invitations and run away and then stop chasing the feeling, but her other 'self', that same being who would speak forlornly, it would have another viewpoint or perhaps her own... her voice whispered to her, 'Never again, you won't look back and reflect, is the value and the length of an existence or life determined by how short you live, is such a life even that good?' But she ignored it, and continued to sob in his arms, a cocoon of sorts, a pit of regrets, shame and blame, of pain and sorrow. She wanted it all out. Out. She was weak. Yes... weaker and softer. Firmer muscles, skin smoother than silk, eyes beautiful and bright. Incomparable in looks. She didn't know the reason anymore. Didn't understand why and how she ended up like that. Her sobs echoing in the shifting terrain around, what was once a colorful beach, is now a deformity of a hollow cavern, the entire span of it an inky, dark blue black, with crystal stalagmites stretching towards the endless sea and cave. If those pillars had truly merged, there would be no color in the walls.

"It's okay, Alice." His voice softened as much as possible, the voice carrying his words reaching out, bringing hope and warmth in them.

The corners of her lips slightly cracked, her nose and cheekbones were strewn in the most gruesome way possible, but that was all because she was trying. But that shouldn't make her beautiful or pretty. Then what will? With that, she still wished to 'break the monotony'.

Yes. Then break the monotony... this was the moment that would decide if Alice could stop letting her worries dictate her actions. "How could we talk and dance all of a sudden..." was all she could manage to mumble while hugging him, whose limbs were skinny as bone. There were no words exchanged. Afterwards, she laid him down with difficulty, next to his limbs and skull. When it comes to meeting their master, humans should feel no fear. For her... not only humans were weak, even someone like him could become weak, or at least get to an equal, a tie.

They both laid down next to each other, staring at the fungi somehow growing on the ceiling of the cavern. Those spores, wherever they came from, made her think of a couple things, even if it didn't remind her of herself. They came into being from an external source that did not wish for their existence, yet as time went on, they would find that same sense of peace in the cavern they'd already seen countless times. Maybe they simply became lost, even in their own world? 'Lost, confused, or perhaps something has happened? Someone, or something, is changing and the cavern is too different for them to figure out the truth.' The voice spoke to itself, disappointed.

"Hey, Zabulus?" She stopped sobbing.

He looked at her, and said nothing for a while. "What is it?"

"Just, let's stay here." A long pause. "Stay... yes, that's a nice thing. Can we?"

Understanding her words, she didn't say any more, however, he felt the weight that sat above his head, felt the energy from her words. "Yes... we can. Just..." he trailed off. His left eye socket felt pained, or... he was not sure. He placed a hand over his left 'eye', as if to ease the pain.

Holy as can be, yet she had not found or cared for an appropriate answer. At all. "Y-yes... We can..."

Then she lost the will to speak anymore and stared into her right palm, clenching and squeezing it, 'rubbing' it on her face, until she fell asleep.