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Please...my goddess...wake up...

I want to respond, but my mind feels like an electric barrier is barricading me from ever reaching past my thoughts. It hurts when I try, so I relax, attempting to understand why I'm here...

...why won't I wake up?

Why can't I wake up?

How long have I been under?

I feel like Tresor has been reaching out multiple times, not just the past few. Why can't I remember or grasp onto what's happening?

I don't remember dreaming.

I don't remember...

A taste of what lies ahead.

The darkness in the tone that floods my mind makes me wish I could pull away, but I'm stuck. I can't...

...coldness encompasses my heart, swirling around as I can't see anything.

The void is much darker in you.

You are alone.

You have no one to balance you.

No one will remember you.

You will cease to exist before the spark of life ever kindled.

Statements.

Claims.

All of this...

...I've heard before.

I don't try to respond, afraid that I'll run straight into that barrier again as I did with Tresor, afraid what it might do...

The more I feel this entity, the more I wonder if this is somehow Aeon. A dormant, sleeping god at this time, only the subconscious awakening with my mother's conception, a growing power the moment she was brought into this world...

...how is it then, if it's him, that he's able to reach me?

Aeon should be asleep.

The air leaves my lungs, feeling like I'm falling, only to physically feel my feet touchdown on a surface. Sight is given to me, gradually looking around, able to control my movements and see that I'm standing on a small piece of land in the center of a body of water. The sky is dark, the stars shining down overhead, though the moon is nonexistent.

The water is calm, ripples nowhere in sight, unable to see any other land in all directions as far as I can see. I'm stranded, a physical representation of my mind and how I'm captive to my reality. Looking down, my form is my own, nothing out of the ordinary. Turning my hands over, I lift my gaze, my heart stopping for a moment.

A tall man stands across from me, feet away, yet his presence shrouds mine. Fear strikes the center of my chest, his eyes boring through what should be a mask, yet it's the complexion and texture of his purplish-golden skin, parts of it looking more like a prosthetic. Those eyes of his...where the whites should be, obsidian darkness consumes it, his irises reflecting amethyst.

The clothes he wears are dark, unable to differentiate exactly what it is he's wearing, though it is clear as day the crown he wears upon his head. His dark hair allows for a contrasting gold crown, the symbols similar to Theban, yet varies with a language I'm unfamiliar with. There are moving parts also, gears and spheres of different colors, some detached and levitating just above his head.

We all constitute a vessel form, a physical manifestation of our true power and glory to walk the planes of reality. He tilts his chin upward and smirks. You are the first and last to see mine.

Tempted Fate |18+ (Ménage)✔Where stories live. Discover now