At the top of a building, that surmounts the vault of heaven, awaits a secret garden belonging to a certain Morning Star. A broken boy confronts the tyrannic ruler who sent the Morning Star to the bottomless pit that is the chthonic world. Why would...
The train had left him at a stop that did not exist. The boy did not think much of it when the train suddenly closed in on unfamiliar grounds, halting to a stop with a creaking sound. But everything had been peculiar about the environment; from the way the tree branches outside the windows twisted and writhed like wretched limbs, to the bizarre buzzing and unfamiliar vibrations in the air that seemed to rumble inside the boy's cranium. The carriage was completely empty. The smell of burnt flesh resided in the air, stinging his nostrils, and in his mouth emerged a taste of iron. Not sure what to think of the mysterious place, he inched closer to his beloved furry companion in order to keep calm. The silence prolonged in the vibrating air as the boy scanned his surroundings. Maybe it was a mistake to escape after all. But what could he do? Stay and be crucified for his crimes, or run away and possibly evade the circumstances?
"This is the final destination, sir". A peculiar voice boomed inside the train carriage. Something felt very out of place about it... it had a hollowness that did not feel right. It was as if the voice came from inside his head rather than his surroundings. Yet, it sounded comforting, like the voice his grandfather had used when showing off his various ring and coin collections, each assortment of gleaming objects more lustrous than the other. He could see the kind twinkle in the old man's narrow, grey eyes before him which made his eyelids sting with tears. These fond memories filled the boy's chest with warmth and wistfulness. But he could not go back. He clenched his fists and watched as his white flesh outlined the bones of his knuckles. With a shaky breath he concluded that it was all left behind, and he could only move forward from now on.
"It is time for you to exit the train", the man announced with a solemn voice, still as soothing as before. The boy awoke from his trip down memory lane, and finally looked up to the man. The small sliver of warmth he felt before had instantly disappeared. The man's features did not match his voice at all, the boy realized. The man felt like a transparent entity within normal clothing, as if black smoke had manifested as a human-like creature. He was there... but he was not really there. Thoughts raced in the boy's head as he tried to make sense of this apparition before him. What was this? Is this yet another of his countless nightmares? Would he ever escape them? Was this perhaps the train conductor? Should he run as fast as possible from... this? But when the boy looked in to the (presumed to be) conductor's eyes, he started to feel the same warmth he had felt with his grandfather. Before the incident. Before the appalling, terrible incident. Maybe it was for the best to escape after all, for the mind is a prison.
