Tony gained consciousness slowly, his mind holding on to something. What he wasn’t sure of, but he knew it wasn’t this, his minds burgeoning awareness of self and body. He felt in no exact sense he had rejected this already. He could hold of no longer however, as his brain refined several stimulus his senses received despite his eyes remaining close. He could feel the proliferation of goosebumps on his skin as he processed the smooth cold surface he lay facedown on. He could hear nothing but the wind and his breath, deep and constant.
His body felt heavy, bones aching in a way that felt phantom and then all too real as he was racked with pain that spiked through his being. The pain faded and after several more breaths he strained his eyes opened to vision of a sky so alien he instantly shut them back tight.
Tony curled further into himself, body and mind. Something was completely and very wrong. Had he seen a blue sun? No, something was very wrong here. His formerly steady breath picked up pace as his heart raced. While he fell into panic his mind choose that moment to recall his last memories. Of craving release, shame and falling.
He killed himself, jumped into the Thames drowned in that foul water and now, this was his Hell. A Hell with a Blue sun. Almost as an afterthought he remembered he did not believe in hell. So where was he? Tony thought hell or not he might die all over again if he didn’t get himself under control. His heart felt like it would rupture from his chest, beating so hard tony for a second thought he felt the air around him shudder in time.
With his eyes closed, he took deep breaths. Mentally attempting to close the door on the realisation that he had committed suicide. It took what felt like several minutes of laboured breath for him to accept the folly in what he was doing. Denial would not avail him, not here. In desperation he tried something else, acceptance. Considering he did not remember actually drowning, he could either have died immediately on impact or, he was not dead at all. It was a big or, one which did nothing to explain where he was now. What he did know though was he had tried to kill himself and jumped, now he was somewhere else strange as it was but certainly alive, at least if his slowly calming heart was of any indication. He was alive and in a place with a blue sun and violet sky.
By the time he was ready to brave opening his eyes once more, what felt like the better part of an hour had past and he oddly felt better equipped to deal with the alien vistas. He’d long since gained sensation in his arms and legs, with an ease didn’t recall ever having he pushed himself to his feet, arms falling to his side and opened his eyes. His breath caught in his throat.
If before he had reacted with abject fear of the unknown thrust upon him. Now he was nothing but in awe of what he saw. The sky was thing of purple, indigo at its darkest and lilac in parts bathed by the blazing blue sun above. The colours…interacted with each other. Slivers of violet and magenta swirling in tandem beneath clouds that where not white but a lilac nebula.
The tableau grew stranger as his eyes were drawn to what looked like an empty plane of bronze leading off to the horizon from where he stood. The distant and size of everything caused havoc with his perspective. He could see gaps in intervals along the bronze plane, giving the bronze a paved look. Of to the side a forest of blue foliage so far below, that the strange nebula like clouds obscured most of it from sight. Movement drew his eye, and he blinked several times as something grey, very large and rigged pushed out slowly, barely cresting the blue below before receding back down out of view.
“What… duh… Fuck?”
As if his own voice broke the spell the entire scene held over him, for the first time since opening his eyes he considered himself. His naked self… his naked pitch-black self. He raised his hands to his face silencing a scream. Smooth yet tough skin the colour of midnight, stretched over chorded muscles, made up his forearms. His wrist thick and his hands… his hands were inhuman. From palm to pointed fingertips darker still than his skin and hard like bone. No, not bone, Obsidian. Both his hand where like finely carved obsidian, articulate and feeling as hard, oddly edged as they were. He closed his fists frightened at the power he felt there and inspected the rest of his body.
As far as he could tell the pitch-black of his skin was uniform except for his hands and feet where they became impossibly darker, right where they hardened into obsidian. The oddities where far from done, when to his horror he realised what he had assumed was skin-tight clothes covering his sensitive region was simply more midnight skin. And the aforementioned sensitive region no longer held anything sensitive. He’d been Ken dolled, Gilded in the worst way. This brought back thoughts of hell. He had been transformed; he could tell he was much taller than his former 5 foot 11 inches. He suspected he stood a full foot taller, wrapped in thick but lean muscle, black as midnight with talons, cause that’s what they were, for hands and feet. Disbelief aside if this was some sort of purple hell might his peculiar transformation not be called demonic. He was an androgynous black Demon in a purple hell. For all intent and purposes, he should be having a mental break by now. This was so far outside his realm of experience that his already fragile mind should have long since been overwhelmed. But the more he thought it through the more he became aware of faculties he had never possessed. His mind felt at ease with this utterly absurd reality. Confused yes, but he didn’t feel himself slipping into the panic he had felt when he first woke up. He compared his current state to every other way he had dealt with adversity in the past and he could see there was a stark difference. Gone was the self-pity, the unending tide of doubt and low self-worth. He’s mind he realised even utterly baffled and confused remained calm. Not disassociated but calm and engaged. What ever had changed his body had also changed his mind.
Who was he now then? If his body was different and mind too, what was left of the Tony that stepped of that railing but memories. Memories that were fading away even now he realised. All this and he was yet to take a single step in this strange place. So he took those steps, looking at the empty path of bronze beneath him and the purple sky above. His body felt perfectly balanced, centred, and aware. His steps picked up and before he realised it, he was running. Faster than he ever had before maybe faster than humanly possible, and it came with such ease. His body moved almost as if it was pre-programmed. Each step a controlled explosive leap, perfectly balance to create a gait that had him covering ground in seconds.
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He flashed through the plane, barely processing the line he had thought as the space between two paving blocks was indeed a massive chasm that marked the end of whatever it was, he was on. Ahead he could see a bronze pillar immense as a mountain rising from the Forrest of what he now saw was blue trees not shrubs. More importantly his careless speed had proven idiotic as he frantically tried to slow his momentum. Digging his feet into the smooth bronze ground causing a jarring screech that sounded nothing like flesh on metal. Once again, his body shocked him as he felt himself lean back, one hand reaching for the ground. His fingers left deep groves in the hard metal before he finally slowed to a halt, precariously close to the edge.
Tony stood back up, checking his hands and feet for damage. Other than a slight warmth in his fingers, he felt and looked perfectly fine. Well, as fine as having ebony digits could be.
He looked down into the cleft. In hindsight he had been a bit foolish to think it a paved path considering the distance between him and the forest bellow. Now he understood he was standing on a bronze monolith identical to the pillar he was looking at. The size of it was staggering. From the precipice he stood on, he couldn’t see how far the next pillar went. Just a continuation of the bronze path to the horizon. His sprint had taken a couple of minutes, but he must have traversed at least a mile, probably closer to two. So the pillars where at least 2 miles deep. He had no way to gauge the diameter without further exploration, but he could see the Forrest below on both sides, so it wasn’t as vast as the depth. Tony vaguely recalled being told the Shard in London was slightly over 300 meters. Looking down below, he couldn’t tell how far the pillars went, just more Forrest that grew between the gap. He also never actually went to the shard, so he wasn’t certain, but it felt about the same height, to the top of the trees at least. It briefly crossed his mind he wasn’t experiencing vertigo or discomfort being so close to the edge.
“Another Change” Tony muttered to himself. He didn’t dwell, as his mind held on the pertinent issue in front him, “How on earth am I getting down?” he asked out loud, before chuckling. “I would bet my left nut this is anywhere, but earth, but I seem to be all out.”
Odd how his entire body had gone through some sort of metamorphosis, yet his voice had stayed the same. He couldn’t get rid of the soft tenor he’d always thought of as not all that masculine. Now it stood the last monument to his past life. The thought struck a chord in him and he amplified it, letting it resonate throughout his being. His Past Life. Wherever he was, whatever he was, it was a new life. What had come before was exactly that, his past. With a surety he had never once felt before he understood. He would move on and be more. Something drastic changed then within Tony. Integral as the breaking of a soul, the fall. He had taken the first step past survival and into ascension. In the winds of an alien world hummed a single note of acknowledgment.
Tony wondered along the top of his bronze monument. At first searching quite meticulously for deviations in the ground, hollow points, anything that wasn’t another solid piece of bronze. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt there had to be a reason he had woken up here. After what felt like half an hour of that found nothing, and he’d barely covered a quarter of the pillar. He switched tactics. He jogged round the perimeter of the pillar at a slow enough pace to keep eyes on the ground. Telling the time at this point was completely intrinsic which was to say guess work. He’d lapped himself on the perimeter of the pillar and made his way into the centre in a spiral with nothing to show for it. As far as he could tell the pillar was made from a single piece of bronze, not even platting from how dense it sounded as he had struck ground with his new feet. The only change he found wasn’t on the massive bronze monument but the skies above, once he looked up from the futility of his search. Further down the horizon, he saw a storm front a dark hue of purple if it wasn’t black. Crimson lightning flashed within it, a darker chaotic version of their lilac cousins, that grew closer by the minute. A streak of lightning flashes down from the storm striking the top of a pillar further along the horizon. Repeatedly, a series of lightning strikes all centred on the pillars as the storm front moved closer. The pillars acted as some sort of lightning rod, drawing the ire of the destructive storm on to itself and sparing the Forrest bellow. That was well and good for the Forrest but with Tony currently standing on one such benevolent lighting rod, the realisation sent a surge of urgency racing through his chest. If he’s new body was as resistant to this red variant of lightning as the metal he was standing on, he would never know, as he had no intention of putting it to the test. Ever closer still the alien storm loomed, the taste of ozone and feel of static in the air. He quickly made his way to the far side of the pillar away from the storm. He couldn’t jump to the next pillar he’d found while jogging the perimeter of his own. The distance was just too great. Easily over a hundred meters. And the fall to the Forrest below was greater still. Tony didn’t see himself surviving that. Caught between a rock and a hard place his mind spurred and locked on to a memory of not too long ago. His fingers had left grooves into the solid metal. Not scratches but deep grooves. He was left with no more time for consideration as he both heard and felt the onslaught of lightning on the pillar just before his. Reaching down, he pushed quarries of what he was doing to the back of his mind, as he punched into the hard metal fingers first. His fingers sunk in as if the bronze was made of Styrofoam. He would gawk if he had the time but as it stood, he could taste ozone. Letting that be the basis of his improvised plan he lowered himself of the ledge, keeping a tight grip of his hand hold. He tenuously made his way down. Progress slow as he had to punch hand holds into the pillar, while his body hanged suspended from the other arm. It occurred to him far too late he could easily kick footholds into the pillar as he went down. This helped increase Tonys speed a bit, but the storm was already on top of him. The first bolts of lightning striking the far side of his pillar sent surges of pain through him, but the concussive force of the thunder struck with such chaotic might he felt him self slip in delirium. Mustering himself he held on and kept climbing but he saw futility in the red sparks surrounding him. Less than a fifth of the way down, the storm released a cascade of red thunder and lightning that ceased Tony’s struggle and stole his consciousness as once again, he fell.