Chapter 75

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It took everything he had to do it, but Asher broke free from his mind’s chains and took a step forward.

The world beneath his feet rippled out like a pond of water on a rainy day. Objects blurred and shifted, blades of grass fraying out and becoming luminescent flowers in full bloom before a horde of fireflies exploded from within them.

Ultimately, however, the reality calmed down after the initial burst of all things horrid; he seemed to have settled and nestled into the dimension of ruptured reality. All around him was a dying flat land, dried earth cracked like spiderwebs, with the wide crevices occasionally burping out jets of liquid fire.

Up above, however, the world was torn--massive gashes in space ravaged the skyline, spitting out occasional bundles of shadows that would transform into tiny, invisible threads and spread out.

It began to rain--but it was no ordinary rain. Rather, the droplets were boiling. Though they dealt no actual damage to his Health, the pain was very much real. The sizzling sounds dripped into his ears like penetrating worms, eviscerating his already fragile mind.

Yet, he couldn’t give up.

Shadow streamed from his rear and he dipped to the side, retaliating with a quick swipe of the blade; it was a winged specter this time around, shadow-formed. As soon as the shadows touched the cold edge of the blade, they evaporated into Ash. Almost at the same time, a trickle of information streamed into Asher’s mind--he now had access to Dash.

He didn't have enough time to ponder, however, as an onslaught of shadows began--two came from his flanks, six from the rear. He dashed forward and dodged the initial strike, spinning around and swiping with the sword. Just before the edge of the blade touched them, though, the warping colors exploded into a cacophony of destruction--the land below split open like a maw of the beast, darkness swallowing the world, and plucking the void rifts in the sky with majestic force.

Before he could make the tail end of it, the world rumbled and mountains came burning through the world from the gaping teeth of the maw--a rapid river flooded from the sky and he found himself stuck inside a deep canyon, a hundred yards of steep cliff side pelted with jagged stones between him and the flat ground.

All he could do was helplessly stand and watch the flash flood consume the canyon--and him with it.

The rapid waters violently plucked him from the ground and tussled him around like a ragdoll; he held on to the sword with dear life and, just like with the boiling rain, he did not take damage to his Health--but his body felt everything. Every time he was tossed into a sharp stone, every time he’d gasp for breath after being submerged under water, every time he was spun and tossed around as though nothing but a paperweight doll...

The canyon ended and he found himself flying through the air above an endless abyss--the waterfall stretched from the edge of the canyon and downward, its end divested by a rising mist. He felt freed--yet the moment was fleeting.

The falling water suddenly stopped and rushed upward, against all logic, turning into a massive pair of wings that flanked an even larger body. Asher landed on its back, while the surroundings swiftly turned from darkness to light--the sky was now blue and alight with color and shine. Before he could admire it any further, his body screamed at him and he flung himself to the side, barely dodging the massive spine of a beast.

It lodged itself into the water-made winged creature; the latter seemed to ‘wail in pain’, if possible, as the condensed shape began to break apart.

The light broke and the essence of creation came undone at its seams--Asher watched them, the knitted threads of reality coming apart and reconstructing, as though living out a story they had lived infinitely before.

He paused, his breath caught in his throat.

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The shadowed world of the dark was reborn, from its ashes sprung a spring of life--green, color-dotted meadows of flowers spread out into gaping infinity, domed by a clear, beautiful, azure sky. It was as though the world was singing, its symphony a calming strum of the string that held it all together.

Paddling through the madow, Asher saw life gather and coalesce--does, wolves, bison, horses, meerkats, crows, eagles, apes, falcons, hogs, boars, sparrows... and as though ordered to do so, they all came to an abrupt halt and faced him. The glistening eyes dotted the fading horizon, faces of animals who ought to be bereft of emotion alight with expressions.

He pondered, dimly, of everything. Most of all his place in all of this. After all, he felt filthy, almost, standing in the field of gold. He did not belong with them, sharing the same pastures, breathing the same air, bathing in the same light. They were life filtered out to its purest, and he... he was the corrupted growth ever hungry for more.

The world answered his calling--and the animals vanished. In their steads, fanged shadows emerged, capricious world taunting him. They launched toward him, ravenous and starved, in want of his flesh and soul.

And he stayed frozen as he watched the heavens molded to perfection fall apart all around him--the colorful meadow burst out into solvent acid, rippling out in a wide spiral and forming a strange, misshapen, horrid sculpture that towered over the world. The beautiful sky bulged out above him and was torn open by a flood of red-eyed motes of light, like a ceiling collapsing from water damage.

He stood there, suddenly, at the liminal space between everything that was, is, would be, and everything that was not, is not, and would never be. The world he thought invincible was far more akin to gossamer than it was to something infallible.

The shadows approached, forming strange penumbra in their wake, their susurrus growing louder and more harrowing. And yet Asher stood rooted in place, his arms relaxed.

Everything was simply... overwhelming.

The effulgent world was cast into shadow and darkness in a breath, and his heart felt cheated and ripped off. He wanted it back, almost like a love lost, a yearning for something that was not even his. He sought the eidolon of his innermost desires... but it was not real.

Just like all of this around him.

Just like the ripping shadows that were upon him.

He tossed his blade out and made contact with all of them--they evaporated, like bits of water in the scorching sun. They blended back into the harrowing world of darkness... and yet, from their waking ashes, light sprung.

A strange, red dandelion blossomed, from a root into a stem and a full bud all within a moment's notice--it began to spin and twist, exploding into a shower of red motes of light, each of which blossomed into yet another... and so onward until Asher found himself standing in a world of blood.

His tired legs were knee-dip in thick, red broth, and it stretched out as far as he could see. The low-hanging sky was rutilant in its make, its edges stretched and contorted into something unnatural. All was one, reddened beyond colors, and he was an anomaly inhabiting it.

The red sea began to bubble and from their midst shadows arose once more--now they stood scarlet, brandishing naught but their thin, spectral forms. From the fading bubbles in the far distance, the entire sea soon began to boil--and just like with the rain, and just like with the flash flood, the boiling did not damage him... but he felt it.

Each bubble atop the surface burst and birthed yet another phantom--and it wasn’t long before they all rushed, devoid of reason or planning. They converged from all ends of the world toward him, and he could not move--not speedily, anyway.

He was cast in stone, unmoving.

By now, Asher's mind was a handful of dust--there were no thoughts remaining, no observations, no critical assessment of his current situation... there was only overwhelmed mush grounded into the hallowed awe.

Whatever force it was, whatever empyrean hand of the overseeing firmament, it had humbled him. It had beaten him. It had enslaved him.

A blade flashed out--and with it, scarlet shadows fell.

The mote of mind inside his head thumped, suddenly, as though aroused by a beat of a wardrum.

And then once more.

Like smoke arising from the tiny kindling, specters of thoughts returned, one by one. And like a drowning man gasping for breath, Asher awoke.

Gone was the red sea and gone were the scarlet shadows--where he was now, however... he could not say, once again.

There were bolts of lightning dancing all around him like the coiling serpents, conjoining and separating in a strange, cosmic waltz. He stood in their midst, a malignant ant, awaiting.

A shadow struck from his rear, but he reacted and destroyed it.

Then from his left, but he was ready.

Two, then, rushed from the front--but they were no match for the sword.

The buzzing, coiling serpents screeched in unison all of a sudden and rushed toward each other, soon coalescing into the shape of a blade--and the invisible heavens swung it.

Not toward Asher, no, but opposite of him--the hanging, ephemeral blade whose blurring edges bled light so holy Asher feared to look directly at it, cleaved forth in silence, and split open the membrane of darkness. The void was undone, its walls being torn apart like linen, doors to the new world being created.

Asher walked up to the edge of darkness and looked over the brink, soon freezing in place. The new world was wholly familiar and close, yet harrowingly distant at the same time.

Strangely orange, saltbox rooftops dotted the sunken valley surrounded by a massive mountain range. Squared, identical courtyards. Paved streets cut into a robotic grid void of humanity.

It was Earth.

It was home.