Silas dreamt of a void.

An infinite, lifeless void, vast and oppressive, with no suns, only a deep darkness. For a moment, Silas had no idea if he was even still existing. He couldn’t see ahead of him, behind him, or to the sides. He couldn’t even see his hands in front of him.

It was as if his sight had been stripped from him.

His Aspect kept him calm, but he was deeply confused. Far, far in the distance, a faint white light flickered.

‘So if I’m not blind…what in the gods’ name is this place?’

Silas shook his head, trying to clear out thoughts that had no answer. He decided to take a step, when a strange, dull pain rang through his head.

He winced.

‘What the hell was that?’

He took another step. The same pain pulsed in his head, but this time, he heard a faint whisper in his ear, so quiet he couldn’t make out the words. He took another step. With each step, the pain grew slightly worse, and each time he heard the whisper grow a bit clearer.

He continued.

Step, step, step. He counted each one. When he reached his hundredth step, an unbearable sharp pain pierced his head.

A familiar voice hissed in his ear with malice.

"It's your fault. You’re the reason we’re dead, Silas..."

Silas screamed, but only silence filled the void—no sound at all. The piercing pain faded to a dull throb as he dropped to his knees, breathing heavily.

‘That...that was Nelly’s voice…’

It couldn’t have been Nelly. She died a long time ago. How could he be hearing her voice? Not long after arriving at Bastion for the winter solstice, he’d met her. She was the first awakened he’d made friends with.

She was also the first person to fall victim to his Flaw.

Silas gritted his teeth and forced himself up. The flickering light didn’t seem much closer, if at all. It was going to take a long time to reach it.

‘But how long?’

It didn’t matter. He was stuck here, and there was only one way out: he had to conquer the Nightmare. So, he took a step. The dull pain pulsed again, sharper this time.

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***

When Silas finally reached his three hundredth step, an unbearable pain shot through his head, sending him collapsing onto the ground—or what he thought was ground. The pain was even worse than before. He would have let out a primal scream if any sound could exist in the void.

The pain rolled from the back of his eyes to the base of his skull.

A familiar voice hissed in his ear.

“Murderer…”

“Why, Silas? Why did you kill us...”

“I hate you, Silas…”

Each whisper faded quickly. He only managed to clearly hear the last one—it was Nelly’s voice again. It was the last thing she had said to him before she died.

‘No! Dammit, stop it…I—I didn’t—it was an accident…’

Silas squirmed on the ground until the pain dulled. Flashes of Nelly’s sword being erased from existence tore through his mind, her bloody body lying limp, torn apart.

It was all his fault.

If he had known how to better control his Aspect and manage his Flaw, her sword wouldn’t have been affected. She wouldn’t have died…

That damned Flaw was a curse.

A tear rolled down his cheek. He realized, only just now, that the more he walked in this void, the weaker [Null]'s hold on his emotions became. He was starting to feel everything again, all the guilt and sorrow he had numbed for years.

He remained on the floor for a while.

Seconds passed, then minutes, hours maybe—perhaps even days. Silas just lay there, silent and unmoving.

Eventually, he rose to his feet, his indigo eyes hollow, though there was no one to see it. After lingering for a moment, he took a step. Dull pain pulsed in his head. Step, pain. Step, whispers. Over and over again, each step after step.

Silas lost count. Eventually, another sharp pain ripped through his head, sending him to the ground, voices from the past tearing into him, calling him a murderer, a monster, an abomination.

Each time, Silas broke a little more. He never had the strongest mental fortitude—his Aspect only gave the illusion of it.

Days passed, maybe even months, and slowly, very slowly, the flickering white light in the distance drew closer. By now, every step Silas took sent a shockwave of pain through his head, the whispers louder than ever, almost rupturing his eardrums.

He cried, dreading each step, praying to the dead gods for help. He tried using his Aspect’s abilities, but wherever he was, they didn’t work.

What had drawn him into this Nightmare? Was it fate? No, fate couldn’t control him. He had the power to erase concepts themselves—how could something so…so pedestrian as fate control him?

‘Maybe...maybe I’m more helpless than I thought…’

He didn’t know if his Aspect could nullify the Demon of Fate’s influence. Maybe he was as helpless as everyone else.

Silas took another step. An indescribable pain pierced his head, and thousands of voices screamed in his ears, loud enough to make his ears bleed. He screamed, his body wracked with coughs, his throat raw, blood dripping from his mouth.

The whispers had grown so loud and constant that he couldn’t make out what they were saying anymore. They only caused more pain. Perhaps that was the purpose of this place, to let the people he had killed make him feel the pain he had caused them.

‘I—I’m sorry…’

“Too bad you couldn’t say that to us when we were alive.”

Nelly’s voice echoed in his ear. He couldn’t tell if it was part of the Nightmare or if he had finally gone mad. It didn’t matter. She was right. His apologies were as empty as the void. There was no one to hear them or forgive them.

Silas lay on the ground, warm blood rolling down his neck from his ears, his breathing strained, his throat hoarse.

He shifted a little on the ground and looked toward the flickering white light.

It was close.

Close enough that he could make out what it was.

‘No—no, it can’t be…it’s not possible! She’s—she’s dead. I saw her die!’

In the distance, faint in the void, stood the flickering silhouette of a petite woman with brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin dotted with freckles.

It was Nelly.