Failed Star (0)

Part 0

The failing star cast long, skeletal shadows across the battlefield. A metallic tang filled my mouth, followed by the sickening coldness that crept in, stealing warmth from my wounds.

The once vibrant fields stretched as far as the eye could see, now littered with the broken bodies of men and the smoldering remains of magic.

The god's vessel, a man clad in divine armor harmonized within the red twilight, loomed over me.

His voice dulled by his bored expression, "This is your final chance, mortal. Leave your mortal hood and join us with the gods."

I choked; a laugh heavy with blood.

 "Join? Do you think I would join you after what you've done? No, your gods leave nothing but remnants in their wake." My vision was blurring and spinning.

I was barely holding it.

The man standing tall from the barren land of piled bodies cast a cold emotionless gaze sweeping across my battered body, "Then there is no need for words, you who had rebelled against the goddess embrace will die with my blade."

He raised his blade, the tip catching the dying embers of the star. A cold aura seeped over me, as a flash of light came to be, and then... warmth embraced me.

The world faded to a dull throb.

Pain, the relentless cohort of my battles, became peculiarly vague. Instead, a warmth blossomed in my chest, scattering outwards, pushing against the cold embrace of what seemed to be the hands of death.

It was the familiar warmth of life.

Then, a voice. Graceful and elegant, it whispered a single word, "Live."

Part 1

Shadowy.

It was incomprehensive Obscurity.

I was inside an area.

A murky area.

There was nothing inside it, only darkness – whether I was fluctuating from one place to another or was upended motionless, I couldn't make it out.

But what I knew was that this wasn't a dream.

Then the place shifted, stirring space within places and abruptly I was in a river.

The all-encompassing sounds of birds whirring as the vegetation influenced the refreshing breeze of squalls coming from a mysterious direction.

It was peaceful.

I felt like I was individually unknown and everything, I sensed as if I was the world or the world was experiencing me – I couldn't describe it.

I strained to move my fingers but I felt nothing, no impression, no movements, and no sound.

It was fairly baffling that I was conscious inside my peculiar reverie, yet I also felt like nothing existed aside from this scene and myself.

The once barren and burning battlefield was nowhere to be seen, except for the peaceful and fanciful environment in which I was in.

Then the place shifted again, this time gears and cogs moving as if it was a giant mechanism turning and running the entire fabric of reality.

The place that was once a peaceful scenery of a river now turned into a view of shaping of cogs and heavy machinery.

Then fear took hold of me, anxiety loomed over my entire being suffocating me in an endless flood of thoughts.

I thrashed and flailed until I was psychologically fatigued, I strained poignant with my very presence but it only gave upsurge in a more distressing feeling.

Dread was grasping my heart, holding my emotions, my consciousness, and my entire being like a slave on a shackle.

I was consciously reminding myself how to breathe, despite the lack of air present; I couldn't even sense myself breathing anymore.

The comprehensive sound of my heart scooped as my vision started muddling – and I woke up.

My senses volleyed open to see that my blurry gaze was leveled airborne as if I were disconnected.

My head pressed flat against the soft exterior of what seemed to be a pillow. I can feel my forehead soaking with flooding sweat.

The darkened vision that I observed started mucking as the shadowy evening sluggishly minted.

I writhed to lift my head, earsplitting and outpouring of agonies resonating with my body. Harrowing me in what stroked an eternity.

I gritted my teeth, and was vexed imposing a rupture of movement; to some extent launching me away from my back before hammering my forehead from something.

Hard, it was hard and hot it was as if a burning wall was placed just right in front of my bed.

My ears continued to ring for a good while before returning to normal, then my eyes cleared up from the blur, and saw a wall in front of me, its magnitude and shape equivalent to that of a chimney.

Then I realized, that the thing I was staring at was a large blazing furnace found in crematorium buildings.

It wasn't the only thing that was unusual, I also realized that I was sitting on a particularly skinny bed, with its frame only supported by what looked like metallic rods.

I was also naked.

"Am I getting cremated?"