Hazy consciousness traveling between the folds of thought. Seeping from it were fragments of life-thoughts, memories, emotions, trauma, and pain, all that compose what we claim to be a being.

In a dreamscape connected to the Great Beyond, it was tidally locked, in the point of two clashing forces. Overwhelming, old beyond reason and comprehension.

A great white sun, clad in fractals and motes of light emanating rays in all colors of the spectrum and more. It raged, screeched, sang, and played the melodies of uncountable worlds, the cacophonic symphony of life. The cry of a child ends in a crescendo of a dying star.

Spreading its influence outwards, manifesting what are the basic blocks of reality.

Time, natural forces, and laws, matter.

On the verge of the expanding sphere, it clashed like a wave against a rocky beach.

The opposing force surrounded all of that Primordial Chaos. In dead silence, without any color, without anything other than the Endless Empty. It consumed, deconstructed, ate away, and pushed against the Chaos and its offspring.

Like two armies clashing the tides of battle shifted, non-stop, creation fought against entropy.

In the middle of this moshpit of madness was a lonely mind, already exhausted and shredded beyond its capacity to handle. Being between a hammer and an anvil it weathered the inevitable happened. The agony of constant deconstruction from the inevitable void and forced rebuilding by the primal forces drowned his mind, leaving it to hide within himself. Forming a core of his own being, keeping safe only what defined him.

His suffering, his loss, his determination.

All others became twisted, consumed, and washed away. Memories separated, and other emotions closed off behind a panel made within his mind.

He adjusted, chaos feeding into the core, strengthening the shell and trying to maintain the outer being while mutating what was left without attention.

Having no Eyes Luke stared into the Empty. Mouthlessy he rambled out random words, snippets taken from his memories. Reliving his life in a catatonic-like state.

All pointed to the fact that this is how his being will end. His body will finally wither in a vegetable state while his mind will disperse into whatever becomes next.

From the Void a rolling cloud of distortion started forming, it closed the boundary into the land of war between clashing Origin forces.

With every step, it became more clear. The humanoid amalgamation of purest black, the true Avatar of Entropy, an Omen of Misfortune and Decay. Its body not moving, it was slowly but surely getting closer.

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The well-defined, chiseled male body was taking shape from nothing, distorted like TV static, parts of it trailing off like the dust in the wind. Its eyeless head finished in horns which form forced insanity into the mind. The toothy grin with needle-like teeth prophesized only the End.

A primal, animalistic-like fear shattered the catatonic protection of his mind.

Unable to move he started wailing in his mind. Overcome by panic rooted deeper than even his reason or soul he tried to escape.

The Thing Smiled.

It possessed no thoughts, no intent, no hatred, no compassion. It simply wasn’t. It was the lack of everything given form for the simple purpose of reclaiming all that became.

Extending its hand towards him the consciousness tried to rip itself apart, kill itself before it got to it.

*Anything, please, anything else but that*

The Shadows of Entropy turned to wisps of steam emitting madly from the Thing. It soundlessly chuckled while playing with its prey. The feeling wasn’t conveyed by sound or even the concept of laughter, no, all concepts of being serious, and things being unfunny simply got ripped away from that region.

Luke’s mind cackled madly like a jester laughing at his own joke, but there was no Joy, his mind twisted and churned when forced to reconcile Panic and forced Joy. Madness filling in the cracks left by the Avatar.

Its spread palm almost made contact with his chest when the sun behind him rippled and gave birth to a flare of Primordial Energy of apocalyptic proportions. The loud rumbling of falling skies and cracking planet cores recentered him.

The flare went straight into Luke’s chest. Setting his being aflame. There was no more nurturing or rebuilding. He became a candle wick doused in gasoline and put under a flame torch.

Through the searing agony of his mind, he soundlessly screamed. Realizing that the Avatar was absorbing him, gaining clearer form with every part stolen from him.

The flames slowed the process, igniting every part of his being, forcing it to keep its form. Prolonging the agony impossible to imagine.

The sun thrummed with a steady beat, almost heart-like, but getting louder and louder, filling Luke’s mind with a cannonade of noise, bursting his thoughts like bubbles and reshaping them back into place just to start the process again.

In this timeless place, the agony was unending, unable to die or escape, forced to withstand that torture, not even allowing the mercy of insanity to take hold.

With a final star shattering boom the Primordial Sun repelled the Void, for now.

Maddened it howled absorbing all calm and peace from where its domain reached. Forcing pure rage into the mind.

It threw itself against the flames, punching them and the consciousness with the force of a Star Killer.

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“ĄAaaaaaah!!!AAAH! NO! “

He screamed his body like a released spring shooting upwards.

THUMP

“AŁA!/O TY!”(OW!/ OH YOU LITTLE!”

His forehead collided with something, sending him back to the moist stone floor.

That is definitely going to leave a bump.

Rolling around the ground, holding his forehead in his hands his mind remembered where it was. It still shuddered with remembrance of The Clash, but reality took precedence.

He looked at who he hit… or rather what.

It was a crab, a human crab, with a big sea shell, all gray. Like a centaur but a crab.

All kinds of trinkets and trash hung around the shell and the human torso.

The huge granite-like claws exiting from the shell were clacking angrily while the human torso was also massaging its forehead. Some tens of pinkish-gray tentacle-like tongs made their way back into the toothless mouth of the old man. Crab man. Crabotaur?

The absurdity of what he was seeing emptied his mind from everything. Simply blank and empty. Flabbergasted by what he saw.

Not knowing how to react he simply said:

“Um, hello?”

“Hello there.” It answered curiously.