The Bus terminus dissolves all around me, as if it was made of nothing more than mist. As the surroundings churn ferociously, a vortex opens up at my feet, pulling me inexorably downward. The sour sensation in my body spreads further as Debra gets her hooks into me. Debra was only partially digested by Carol, her potential forming the outer shell of the freakish furry were fox currently trying to kill me. Underneath Debra was the gestalt entity that Carol and Buddy had become.

But like my heart said, to reach past Debra means consuming her in the bargain. I had badly managed the reconciliation with Debra, leaving me at the whims of her disgusting fetishes. I needed a way to placate or counterbalance Debra's influence on my own potential, otherwise her delusions would tear me apart.

The speed of my descent increases, Love's holster pulling heavily at me. The cheap polymer might as well have transmuted into a solid lump of lead.

Focus on the memento Carol left you when you first consumed her potential, the bond that ties both of you together.

"Got it." I gladly accept my heart's advise and concentrate on the holster. The holster's weight grows several times over, becoming a metaphorical anchor hauling me along with it. When I absorbed Carol's potential, I became part of her past. And she became part of mine. There is a "I" in her, just as there is a "Carol" in me. Both of us are both separate yet inseparable.

The vortex howls and the mist hardens, becoming tougher than steel. Carol knows of my presence and is trying to bar my passage. As the wind slashes past my ear, I can hear Carol's voice past the noise, shouting curses at me, demanding revenge for what I did.

The voice of Carol's heart, barring our passage, seeking to expel us.

"A clash of wills then?" I murmur, growing weaker with every moment, "Can we make it?"

Carol cannot deny herself. Her own desire to be whole again.

My body smashes through the mist like a wrecking ball and there's a scream of frustration rising from the abyssal depths. At her core, Carol wants the potential I stole returned to her. And it is that irresistible desire that will allow me to cross the gulf of hatred that separates us, piercing past any defenses that Carol might try to erect. Resisting my advance is similar to holding her breath. Carol can manage it for some time, but she will have to succumb sooner or later.

The real test lies ahead.

"I know. Getting either Carol or more likely Buddy to yield is the actual challenge here." I pant from fatigue as Debra leeches away more of my strength, "I need to deal with them before running out of time."

Invisible walls press down on me, constricting my limbs and gradually forcing me into an uncomfortable semi crouch. Try as I might, I can't even manage moving a bare inch. A looming presence casts its shadow over my mind, obdurate and immovable.

The way is open. Your opponent is prepared. Good luck.

"Yeah. I'll need it." I sputter against the crushing weight grinding against my back. My stomach does a flip and the mist abruptly parts -

........

- leaving me standing among a large pack of Bioforms. The stench of unwashed animal bodies is overwhelming, nearly causing me to gag in protest. But that's really a minor issue compared to the real problem confronting me at the moment.

I can't move at all. I can still hear the stirring of my heart though.

Reconci -

And even that is quickly cut off, leaving me in silence.

Taking stock, I realize I'm in the middle of the Bioform pack, standing next to the highway. A white van loiters nearby with some weirdo standing by it, head completely covered with a shopping bag. There's some indistinctive noises coming from the weirdo, but its a monotonous drone, impossible to decipher. Whatever is suppressing my movements is also screwing with my senses. I grope about with my metaphorical hands, seeking any hint of weakness in the prison binding me.

Yiff

Buddy. Buddy's the presence that's holding me fast. I scratch away at Buddy's potential but

Yiff

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Buddy's too strong, too fresh. I can only feed on someone already dying. And Buddy's nowhere near that state. His potential is like rock. Hard. Indigestible. The walls of my prison close in again and I beat at it frantically, searching for an opening in Buddy's psyche

Yiff

and find only loyalty, the mindless devotion a Ranger's companion animal has toward its master. Nothing I say can persuade Buddy to let me go. I can't talk Buddy into surrendering his potential to me. If anything, there's a growing sense of scorn coming from Buddy's presence in my mind, a kind of disappointment a predator feels from an unexpectedly easy hunt.

"Let me go!" I demand soundlessly, "Now!"

Yiff

Buddy's presence grows even more oppressive, smothering me. Anymore and I'll be suffocated alive. Already my senses are starting to shut down. Vision's dimming, and the only thing I can hear is that damnable yiffing from this stupid fox. Past the sweaty animal stench is an acrid smell, similar to cigarette smoke.

Cigarette smoke?

"I know you're here." the weirdo by the van says, "There's no need to hide."

And with those simple words, the morass blinding my senses is blasted cleanly away. My sight clears and Buddy's presence diminishes, shrinking away from the weirdo. The pack surrounding me runs off, heading down the highway. With the competing animal stench gone, I can identify the acrid smell itself.

Weed. The weirdo's been smoking weed. His clothes reek of it.

"Its been a long time, Seeker." the weirdo continues, flicking one of his sleeves at me, "I hope you've been well."

Buddy's presence reels back, as if the weirdo had slapped the fox in the snout with that sleeve. The weed smell descends all around us, choking out Buddy, but strangely leaving me unaffected. Well, not exactly unaffected. I'm feeling far more mellow now, even with death staring at me in the face.

"Breath." I grunt, Buddy's binding on my limbs loosening, "Thought you monks never left the Sensorium."

"We do need to leave to get food and essentials." Breath's voice is muffled thanks to the shopping bag over his head, "Though its often like this, incognito. No surprise that urban myth about us never leaving sprung up."

"Thanks for the assist." I amble over to Breath, who waits peaceably under his shopping bag, "Surprised you actually recognized me under that, well, whatever that bag is meant to be."

"I experience the cosmos as a whole." Breath folds his arms, humming, "So naturally I knew you were lurking about nearby."

"Uh, OK. I know better than to doubt your funky powers by now." I mutter, getting that out of body experience you experience whenever you're out of your depth, "Why are you wearing a bag over your head though?"

"Because like you Seeker, I can't go back to sleep." Breath says patiently, "So I'm doing the next best thing. I'm stopping myself from seeing."

"Seeing? Seeing what?" I mumble totally confused, idly observing the people milling around the Pay 2 Win casino in the distance.

"What is to come." Breath pats my shoulder sympathetically, "You should have taken the blunt I offered you the other day. It was laced with poison meant to blind you."

"What the fuck!" I exclaim, leaping clear of Breath.

"A mercy, Seeker." Breath explains calmly, "Do you think seeing what you've seen has made you better off?"

"My death. You're talking about the vision I had about my death." I walk back to Breath, regaining my composure, "You knew I would experience something like that."

"Yes. That's why we monks stay in the Sensorium as far as possible." Breath says, "And when we leave, our eyes are always blinded. What we don't know can't hurt us."

"Isn't that willful denial?" I question back, "You'll just experience your fated end without advance warning."

"You've observed the cosmos for yourself, Seeker." Breath makes a circular movement with his hands, "Time means nothing to us. The past can be rewritten in the right circumstances. What makes you think the future is beyond our grasp?"

"So you're saying that I created my own fated end?" I dispute, uneasiness growing within me.

"Our existence is not natural and in direct opposition of nature." Breath shrugs.

"No kidding." I grunt, recalling how monks and Awakened are born.

"If I may continue please?" Breath sighs, "Death has left its mark on us. On a fundamental level, we want to die Seeker. Understand that."

"Death wish. Destrudo." I nod, recalling my earlier experience in Winter Rift. The urge to just let Barkhant gun me down.

"Because being dead is our 'natural' state." Breath's head bobs up and down, the bag making him look like a ghost, "And we instinctively seek to do what is right and natural."

I purse my lips, thinking in silence. Carol said she had made peace with dying, going as far as tanking several gunshots without flinching. But maybe it wasn't peace Carol found. She had merely been overcome by her death wish.

"So if one cannot resist his natural urge," Breath continues after adjusting his clothes slightly, "do the next best thing. Make it impossible to satisfy such urges."

"So you blind yourself with that silly bag." I answer, "Preventing yourself from witnessing your own fated end?"

"Yes. What has not been seen may not come to pass." Breath agrees, "Unlike something that has already been reconciled, right?"

"Damn it." I curse, "Is there really no escape for me?"

"If you had not panicked back when we first met," Breath responds apologetically, "I might have been able to help you. Even using the blunt when you returned home would be an improvement over your current circumstances."

"Except I would be blind. Permanently." I remark dourly.

"Its not as big of an issue as you think it is." Breath dismisses airily.

"Sure." I shake my head in resignation, "Thanks for helping me out just now anyway."

"Oh, its nothing." Breath waves my thanks away, "I've not helped you at all in fact. I'll admit that I'm here for my own benefit."

"Which is?" I shuffle about uneasily as Breath stands as still as a statue.

"You can help the Sensorium, Seeker." Breath replies, "I know its selfish, to expect you to help us in these circumstances, but things are what they are."

"And what do you want my help with?" I query, cautious at this sudden request.

"To find the Rightly Guided." Breath makes a welcoming gesture.

"The one who will lead us to paradise."