Cutscene: Depth

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You stare into the eyes of the boy in front of you, bright blue eyes that seem to glow with knowledge and secrets, and then you feel something shift through your body, a sensation that starts at the base of your spine and crawls upwards, tingling and electric, like a thousand ants marching beneath your skin.

The room you're standing in falls away, the walls and floor and ceiling dissolving into nothingness, and you're falling, falling through a blue sky that stretches on forever, an endless expanse of azure that fills your vision and your mind and your soul. You try to scream, but nothing comes out, because you can't breathe, because you're falling too fast, the wind whipping past your face and stinging your eyes, tears filling them and blurring your vision, turning the world into a kaleidoscope of blue and white and emptiness.

And then you land, but you don't stop falling. You're in an endless alien sea that looks like stars, the water glittering and shimmering with pinpricks of light that dance and swirl around you, and you're sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness, pulled down by an invisible force that you can't see or feel or understand. You try to struggle, to swim upwards, to reach for the surface that you know must be there somewhere, but your limbs are heavy and sluggish, and the water fills your lungs, choking you, drowning you, even as you continue to breathe, the air coming in sharp, painful gasps that tear at your throat and your chest.

The darkness is all around you now, a thick, inky blackness that swallows you whole, and you look up, desperate for some sign of light or life or hope, but there's nothing, just the stars fading away as you fall deeper and deeper into the abyss, the weight of the water pressing down on you, crushing you, until you feel like you might implode from the pressure.

And then you stop, and you're floating in the darkness, your body suspended in the depths, no ground beneath your feet, no surface above your head, just an endless expanse of nothingness that stretches out in every direction, a void that threatens to consume you, to swallow you whole and never let you go.

But then the darkness shifts, and you see it. A massive blue eye, bigger than you, bigger than anything you've ever seen, so large that you're almost a speck in comparison, a tiny, insignificant speck of dust floating in the vastness of the universe. The eye shifts, and then it looks at you, and you look back, unable to do anything else, your body frozen in place, your mind reeling with the impossibility of what you're seeing.

You stare into the eye, and you realize that it's familiar, that you've seen that blue before, glowing and all-knowing, a blue that's as blue as anything can be. You try to speak, to ask what's happening, to beg for answers or mercy or something, anything, but your voice is gone, swallowed up by the darkness and the silence and the weight of that massive, unblinking eye.

And then you feel it again, that sensation of something shifting through your body, a tingling that starts in your toes and works its way up, up, up, until it reaches your head and explodes behind your eyes in a burst of light and color and sound. You gasp, and you breathe in water, delicious sweet water that fills your lungs and clears your head and makes you feel alive for the first time, alive and awake and here, wherever here is.

But the eye is still there, still watching you, still boring into your soul with its unblinking gaze, and you know that this is just the beginning, that there's more to come, more to see and feel and experience in this strange, alien world that you've found yourself in. You take a deep breath, and you steel yourself for whatever comes next, knowing that you have no choice but to face it, to confront the unknown and the unknowable and hope that you come out the other side intact, or at least alive.

The eye blinks, once, twice, three times, and then it's gone, vanished into the darkness as quickly as it appeared, leaving you alone once more, alone with your thoughts and your fears and the echoes of that word, that single word that seems to hold the key to everything and nothing all at once.

You float there, in the darkness, in the silence, in the emptiness, and you wonder what it all means, what any of it means, if anything means anything at all in this strange, surreal world that you've stumbled into. You close your eyes, and you try to remember how you got here, how you ended up in this place, but your memories are hazy and fragmented, like a dream that's already starting to fade away in the light of day.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

But then you hear it, a sound that cuts through the silence like a knife, a sound that makes your heart race and your blood run cold. It's a voice, a whisper, a murmur that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, a voice that speaks directly into your mind, bypassing your ears and your brain and going straight to your soul.

"Eternity," it says, and you shudder, because you know that voice, you've heard it before, in another life, another world, another time and place that seems so far away now, so distant and unreachable. "Embrace eternity."

And then the darkness shifts again, and you're falling once more, falling through the stars and the void and the nothingness, falling into the unknown, into the abyss, into the heart of the mystery that surrounds you, that consumes you, that threatens to tear you apart and put you back together again in ways that you can't even begin to imagine.

You fall, and you fall, and you keep falling, until you can't tell which way is up or down, left or right, forward or backward, until the only thing that exists is the falling itself, the sensation of hurtling through space and time and reality, of being pulled apart and put back together again, over and over and over, until you're nothing more than a collection of atoms and molecules and bits of stardust, floating in the endless expanse of the universe.

And through it all, that word echoes in your mind, that single, solitary word that seems to hold the key to everything and nothing, the word that haunts you, that taunts you, that calls to you from the depths of the abyss.

Eternity.

You gasp, and you breathe in air.

"...You… you okay there, Theo?"

Theo.

His brain seems to buzz and then go silent as sound returns, vision, smell, feeling, all of it.

"Theo?"

Who?

"T-Dog?"

Theodor Heathcliff Anders blinked and looked into a pair of blue eyes, watching and waiting for an answer.

He blinked.

Silver eyes blinked.

He - Theo - blinked at the same time as the blue - Greg - blinked.

His skin tingled, electricity running beneath his skin, in his veins, as he flexed his fingers and toes, staring forward. He opened his mouth and tasted air, moved his tongue and formed his first word.

"...yeah… I," Theo blinked several times, staring at the room around him as if seeing it for the first time. No, as if seeing for the first time. "I think... so. Why?"

He feels… wetness.

Fingers dab at his eyes and ears and just below his nose. Silver eyes blink again as those fingers come away with something that feels like blood, but looks… like ink or oil or something too black to be from a human body.

Huh. He can't hide his interest as he plays with it, the blackness staining his palms and fingers.

After a few moments, he blinks up at blue - Greg - and asks again, still patiently waiting on an answer to his first question. "Why?"

Greg opened his mouth, an odd look crossing over his face as he looked past Theo. Theo turned to follow his gaze, eyes meeting those of the - gold - other boy on the far end of the room, forming the sign of the cross with his fingers. "Uhhhhhhhhhh…"

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

"̷H.. ̶d̵i̷d̷n̶'̶t̸ ̸e̸x̸p̷e̵c̴t̵-̶"̷

̴"̶H̵o̵w̵ ̴d̴o̶e̵s̵n̵'̸t̴ ̴t̷h̸a̵t̸ ̸e̸x̶i̴s̷t̸ ̴i̶n̴-̷"̴

"̴͖̪͈̇̈́̄W̸̫̲̦̾h̷̢̞̽ỹ̷͉̖̜̂̓ ̷̖̺͕̫̆͂a̸͎̝͖̭͌́̔̽r̵̖̾ḛ̸̢̔͂͗́ ̶͔̻̘̗͆̔̈͝w̶̨̨͓̓͂͌͠e̴̲͉̟̖̋ ̸̞̈́̎̐́o̸̮̐̀͂n̵͖̼̳̦͑͘ ̶̛͍̝̣̲̄̎̆E̴̫̐͗̎̀ä̶͍͉̙́r̸̖͋-̸̠̘̪͎͑̀͌̈́"̶̧̱͒

̷̞̈́̽̽̾"̶̦̳̚͠T̵̡͉͉͌̅͐h̴̖̗̀͘į̶́́͒͘ś̶͎̰̥̙̾̽ ̵̛͖̇̍î̵̱͑̆s̵̭̤̬̞̅͠͝ṉ̴̝͙̓͜'̴̡͕͂̒̃t̷̙̥͆͑ ̶̖͐̿͑̄h̸̥͍͓́̆͠o̶̺͗w̶̤̎̄ ̶̮̺̍̌͝͝t̵͍̀̿h̸͍̻͌̾ì̸̫͍͕̥͛̄̆ń̴̤̯́́̽ģ̶͕̰̦̊̌̍s̸̺̺͔̒̃͐ ̶̠̻̪̤̂̅̕s̸̞͗̅̓̀h̵͎̥͓̋́͜ò̵̩̞̼͈̄u̴̲͋͗l̴͔̄͗ḑ̴̘̭̹̀͐̄̂-̴͎̎͛ͅ"̸̱͕̼̳̀͌̎

"̵͙͔̠̭͓͆Y̵̢̬̟͜͠ͅó̸͎ữ̶̧̜̥̩̇̿͐ ̵̮͗̔̕͜d̴̜̼͆͝o̵̖̜̦͎̳̭͆͐̂̀̕n̶͍̬̺̘͇̮̽͛͝'̴̢̩̙͑̋̔̄t̷͎̼̞̣̙̀̃̉̍̕ ̷̧̟͙̩̠̓͗̂̌̚r̸̲̱͈̂̓̊͗é̶͖͕͂͆̊̈ă̵̫̒̀̅͊̚l̷̫̿́͊͆͜͝l̵̛̹̩̎y̶̪̘͎̭̘̑ͅ ̸̨̣̜̻̯̃e̵̺̤̭̽͜x̶̢̬̠̌̿̋̏i̴̢̫̭͔̒̀-̷̢̢̤̬̱̪͘"̷̼̣̝͐͜

̵̧̨͙̗̘̏̐̄"̵̨͉͈̝̩̞́̐͋̅I̴̟͐̍̓̔͘̚ ̷̡̧͉̼̀D̴̡͚̪̬̹̽́̈̕Ǒ̶͊́̀̓ͅN̶͓̹͎̤͈̓'̷̮̩̖̆̀T̸̞̣͑͠ͅ ̴̟̘̔́Ȅ̸̘͇̗̂͗̕͠͝Ẍ̵͙́̾̄̈́͝I̴̦̠͎͔̤͐̈̀̃͝S̶̃̈́̓͝ͅT̷̢̙͓̫̾̈̊̿̍̓"̶̱̜̙̊̇͊́͐͒

̷̲͇̽̄͂͋͜"̴͕̘̤̍̉̓̓͘͜T̷̘̩̙̤͙̗̓̏̓H̷̝̙̣̟͌I̵̩͙̤̞̬̯͑̔̌̂̀͝S̴̺̬͈͍̠͛̍̈́̅̇ ̸͍̠̰̬͚̓̀̄͂̽W̸̲̍͗͒̍̍͝O̷̢̤̲͈̿́̽̆͝R̸̻͍̫̠͉͇̅͊̊̎̏L̴̘̟̬͆D̷̤̼̻̓̊̓ ̶̧̯̺̆̃̂ͅI̵͕̲̥̥͈̤͂̃S̸͈̾̔̽̒͆ ̷͖͚̟͌̇̉͜͝͠A̶̲̓̋̈́N̷̡̙͔̻̱̲̓ ̸̖̀̿̉̂Ỉ̵͙̼͔̝̾̒̔L̷̛̙͔͖͐̍͊̒͂L̷̠̭͖͍͙͌Ŭ̵͓̜́̽͊͊͝S̶͕͙̊Ḭ̶̊͒͒̄O̷͈͚̘͕͙̝̽N̷̨̥̣̐͝"̵̩̓͒̇͝

"̴̨̡͔̞̳͈͈͙̺͈̝̦̲̜̮͋̉̈́̓̈́̓͗̌͗͑͐̈̆̐̑̋̕ͅI̴̡̧̧̱͉͖̰͓͖͉͚̤͚̞̮̞͙͇̞͉͎̲͒͜ͅ ̷̨̛͇̯̝͖̇̓̓̈́̓̈́̀̈́͝Ć̶͉̳̘̥̜͚̞̙̭̌͑͛̆́͋͑͛̇̾̃̓̀́́́̀̓̚Ȃ̸̢̧͓͓̥̳̹̜̱̙̹̲͈̦̙̺̠͙̼̮͔̃͊̌̃Ń̸̬̼̼̤̜͉̖͖̟̻̟̫̟̲̝̖̯̺͙͑͒͆̈́͑̅̒̍̏͠ͅ ̵̧̨̥̟̥͙̱̬̙̰̮̘̹̬̰͉̟͎͍̗̅͐̐̄̄̒͛͐́̆͘Ŝ̵̢̢͇͙̬̭̙̙̞̓̌̓̊E̶̬̦͛͆͗͋̈́̊̌̐̂̿͒̉̀̌̐͗̍̍̓̈̏̚͝͝Ḙ̸̛̟̺̹̟̰̩̠͉̱͙̠͖̰̩̲̰̾̐͆̈́̑̉́̆̒͊̊̄̓̅̈́̈́͐͋͊̏̈̚͜͠͝͠ ̶̦̝̘̠̳͓̗̮͔͔͔͓͎͆̍ͅE̶̢̧̛̗̝̓͒͂̏̊̃͗̀̇̊̿̀̆̆̀̕V̷̨̪͔̹̟̼͔̪͍͉͙̠̘̥̇̊̈́͗̓͒̈́̎́̆͒̄̋̿͒̚͘͝͠E̶̛͍̤̱͂̈́̚Ŗ̵͉̟̠̞͙̹̜͙͙͖͓̺͈̘̳͈̞͇̥̮͌̚͜Ŷ̵̢̢̛͍̤̘̣͕̣͍̟̰̦͍̯͔̟̯̝̺̯͎̲̈̉͛͗̔͑̉͛͌̈́̓̊̂͘͜T̵̢̰͎̎̈̇̇̂̍͛͑̓́̂̆͗Ḩ̴̛̤̹̜̣̥͎̥͈̩̟͌̈́̀́̉̆̊̒̇̓̔̒͆̑̿̑̒̃̚̚̕̕I̶̧͙̹̞̰̫̳̙̓̿͑̉͊͂̾̔́̈́̅͝͠N̷̺̩͚͕͙̗̱̗͈̓̐̉̔̃̊̈́͑̈́̊̀̉̑͗̈́̇͊̊̄̋̇̏͑̊̀̽Ğ̸̡̙̠͖̫̭̱̘̫̞̰̘̔̀̏͋̔̽̈̏͐̆́̎͑̕͝͠͝"̷̛͕͔̟̳͓̝̭̥̑͆͒̓͒̾̏͂͋̉̚͘̚͘͠͝

̴̢̡̛̳̮͍̲͙̮͎͐͌̇̒̑̀͑͠"̸̛̮̫̦̜̯̻͇̱̼̪̣̼̦̂̈́̾͗̊̃̎̎͒̐͗̉̉̾̆̽͐̋̕͝͝I̶̥̹̳̯̠͇̱͖̗͙̺͚͍̊̌̓͒͊͗̿̍́͂̑̋̓̌̕̕͘͠ ̶̙̩̅͆̎̈́̊̈͒̌̓̐C̴̛̦͓̩̘͓̙̦̏̈̇̉̿̓̊̉̊͐͒̂̄͋̔̚͝͝Ả̷̛̝̞̠̼̎̎̈́͒̇̿̿̓̐̇̎̇̂̉̑͐̏̚̕̕͝͠͝ͅN̸̪͈͈̻͒̍͗̑͑͒̍ ̴̡̛̜͎̻̺͔̩̯̗̘̰͉̙̲̹̥̀̒͊̄̌͒̔̍̂̑́̆͂̃̈́́̾̓́͒̈́͘̚͠S̵̨̨̛̰̩͎̦̤͉̠̜̝̩͖̹͙͔̣̟͔͚̬̝͙͕̆͊̀́͋̈́̂͐̊̉͂̅̅̅̑̐̈́̒̋͠E̵̛̹̟̜͓̪̾͊̑̂͋͛̿͆͌̌͆̌̐̏̅̀͂͊̍͘͝͝͝͝͝Ȩ̵͙͍̗̤̱͕̣̤̩͓̞͚̰̫̲͇͈̠̘͔́̿͛̅̔͌̐̍́͌̑̾͋̽̀̽̊͘͘͜͠ͅ ̷̡̢͚̼͉̳̖̲̤̺̦̣̼͖͉͈͙̓̎͒͘͜ͅİ̵̧̨̢̛̮̹͇̼̘͓̙̺̺̪̦͑̃́̑̏̋͊̉̓͑̀̏͘͜͝͠T̵̛̬͓͈̺̻͉̙̂͒͑̓͐͠ ̶̛̛̛̛̣̜́̄̇͋͐͌̑̔̓̋͊̂̔̍̚̕͘͠͝ͅĄ̶̛̠̼̘͚̮͉̲̼̫̥͔̲̯͎̼̞͖̙͉̲͕̗L̷̢̢̦̣̲̦̩̜̻͍̼̥̞̻̦͎͚͈̪̒́͂̏̇̽̊̏̉̚͝͠L̴̛̫͖͙̞̠͎̘͇̰̖̮͈̻̹̮̼̩̗͓̠͈̲̅́̋̅͛̐̋̈́̀̐̅͆̿̽̃̋̈́́͜͠͝͠͝ͅ!̶̲̳͐̅̈́̿̈́̀"̸̧̳̳̤̳̭̖̦͖̳͉̲̤͎͇̲͎͎̫̱̳̼̦̍̒̽́̄͌͊̏̎ͅ

̵̪͕͎̙͈͕̙̘̺̪̻̝̰̤͔̗̮̙͈̇̄̍̈͗͐̔̀̅͌͒̈́́̑̍̅̀̊̏̚̚͠͝"̴̡̤͕̳̗̞̪͖͉̜̦̠͍͇͙̣̝͓͓̮̯̜͈͕̀̆̊̔͐́̋̃̇̀̓̉̚͜͝͠H̶̖̼̞͍̯̮̪̞̝̋̏̒̃́́̀͐́̊́̓͘̕̚̚͠͠ą̸̢̛̫͎̥̪͚͎̬̥͔͇̲̭̠̼̦̲͈͕͕͔̬͑̊̉͐͋̽̽̋̂́̽̿̀͛͜ã̸͍͈̦̯̥͍̣͔͚͜h̸͓͗͂͛̿̉̽a̷̡̧̢̛̺̭̲͓̖͈̯͉̫͚͍̬̬̠̠͇̤̫̣͕̒͆͂̐͋̓͋̄͌̽̀͌̍́̎̒͐̐̚̚H̷̡̬͈̥̱̯̙̗̠̰̪̫͙̤̩̯͓̙̞̥͇̖̪̙̽͛͐̓͌̓̌͌̀̍̓͛̂͝ͅĄ̵̢̧̯͔͉͙̜̝̳̮̘͈͉̬̇͊̈́́̍̔͌͝Ḩ̸̤̖̼̰͉͎̤͎̟̙͕̼̘͙̻͇͍̬̝̤͓̮͋͜͜A̸̢̦̹͇̱͔͊̈́̄̈́̓́̈́͐̈́̂̔͋̾̽́͘H̷̢̢̛̗̩̝̳̼̪̣̤̜͕̺̲̮̙̙͕̱̠͊̈̔̅̍̔̑̆͂̈́͋̀ͅͅA̴̢̛͓̗̖͙̪͕̪͆̀̊͑̇̀̋͛̌͆̓͘!̵̨̢̯̳̻̝̳͚̘̲̫̗̪̦̱͉̟͂̈͛͂̀͗̈́͊̌́̎̆͂̈͛͋̉͆̉͆̂͘̕͠͝͝ͅ"̶̛̺͛̆̄̒̑̏̓́̈́̐̐̋̐͐̐̽̇͐̿́͊̽͛̿͝

"HAHAHAAAHAHAAHAHA-!"

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Greg Veder shut his mouth, shooting his godbrother a wide smile that looked extremely strained. "No reason at all. Let me get you some wet wipes."