I walk the halls of some strange place, bound as I am in my dreams to the same spot every night. Every single misplaced thought manifests as a door in the hall of each floor so expansive as to seem endless. I walk for untold hours through so many floors of this place, the doors inlaid with varying materials. Doors of gold with dragons carved upon their arches, doors of silver and a dark, undulating substance I cannot identify, and even doors of bone and solidified blood. Behind -these- bone and blood doors do my true fears and doubts lie. Behind -these- silver and dark doors do my memories begin their decay, and fester until they give rise to new, terrible creatures; this is what gives rise to the undulating dark that permeates the arches of these doors. Behind -these- golden doors are my dreams lain bare; expansive fields, deserts, jungles and endless skylines melding together in a mindscape of near unfathomable proportions.
As I walk I observe these rogue thoughts, some forming before my very eyes. It was always with some satisfaction that I would nearly walk into walls, only to have them suddenly shift and expand into a larger expanse. At first, these occurrences frightened me. What could this place so entrenched in my dreams truly hold? I felt as if my stomach would drop, but continued on, always on alert. After it happened a few times more I started to become used to it, truly starting to observe my surroundings and how they would open slightly. There was also a time where these rogue thoughts sought to frighten me as well. How did I cope the first time? Imagine the Void Larvae found in the domain of their namesake, and how their large bodies seemed so impossibly held together. Flesh seemingly stretched to breaking and tearing, yet not painful. Now one similar to its brother thrusts itself upon you from behind one of the bone and blood doors, seeking so desperately to tear at your flesh. You cower, but strangely feel nothing but the pressure of something on your chest. The terror passes, and so does the image fade. Rogue thoughts, and nothing more.
Finally, I reach what appears to be the bottom floor, so grossly dark as to swallow most light that dares touch its frame. No light peeking from above, only the small amount coming from your surreal dream form. Thus the only option of being able to see what lies ahead is to go forward. This light is sickly and twisted, its teal hue making it hard to discern a line from open space. This in turn makes travelling forward take even longer segments of time, although the hall is straight on for only so long before what I see begins to chill me. By now my option of turning around and going back is blocked by a wall. I reach out and touch it, attempting to will it back, but in vain. By the time I turn around, all rogue thoughts have abandoned the hall, save for one. My blood runs cold, a chill descends through my back, and I feel terror for the first time all over again. What stands facing away from me is no beast of legend, no eldritch abomination, nor even some intimidating presence.
It is myself, clad in a suit of armor familiar to me. I had only ever gazed upon it once, and found it to be ornamental in nature. Strangely, it is pristine of condition and seemingly burning with a level of light that nearly blinds me as I look fully upon it. I move mechanically as I would every night towards this being, sluggishly at first, as if going through mud. As if the slow pace wasn’t enough to make me impatient, now the blinding light has started to die down, becoming more of a dark teal like the sickly light one’s dream form emits. I begin to feel something is wrong, that I should go back, but I know well enough that if I turn away now what will await me. My pace increases to that of a normal walk, and I begin letting my mind wander to search for anything else familiar of myself that I see in this being. I am finally running, borderline sprinting towards myself, about to try and get his attention when suddenly…
I walk the halls of some strange place, bound as I am in my dreams to the same spot every night. Where it ends remains a mystery to me, as I have never seen the bottom floor, nor have I observed what horrors could possibly make their home in this place. With each passing night I can only wonder if the thoughts assaulting me are real or not. Every time they jump from their respective arches, I am left to wonder if they can become so real that they may harm me. Will they really seek to chip away at my sanity? No, that was never in question; they have done this remarkably well for each night since the 1st of Yggdrahil Tempestus. Each time I close my eyes, I am left in a dark hall for my thoughts to endlessly torment me until next I rise. It is as if I am stuck in this place, night after night, forced to relive the darkest moment of my life.. and for such a life I cannot fathom the depravity one could endure for just one night if this.. this is what they have experienced after finally reaching the end.
-If- they reach the end.