The hallways were crowded, and a trail of bodies led down the maze-like halls. Through the darkness, I wielded my focus and composure, my eyes moving, anticipating what the shadows spat out. Gladly, nothing crept up. Everything was still, glued to its position; my predecessor saw to that.
The bodies got fewer and fewer, while fatigue had pushed me to the wall. Forcing me to the walls, pushing myself against them, propelling myself down the halls.
I did not have time to stop for a break. The last hallway had only two bodies flanking each side of the broad, heavy door.
I pushed the door open. A rush of cold air breezed. Its touch against my hot skin, almost sensual. Deep, hard breaths drove out the heavy stench of blood and death that I had been accustomed to.
I looked up, drawn by the night. I marveled. The dancing lights of the stars soared gracefully across the sky. Their luminance raining down, ridding the world of the oppressive feel of the night.
The moon was at its pinnacle. Its crescent shape carved and pinned to the sky along with the stars. It was bright enough to see ahead.
Massive columns were mounted. They were tall enough to hold the sky, their tips glossing beneath the stars. The sides were cracked and worn out.
I looked around, seeking out the unfamiliar. Everything was unfamiliar. From the way the birds sang to the whistle of the wind. I could feel my nerves cramping, stringing along a growing fear of the unknown. I shiftily moved my eyes, now looking for the familiar.
My mind framed my surroundings, trying to picture it out.
The corner of my eye was dragged towards my left. The cloud of darkness was not as still as water; instead, it swayed with little life and vigour. The darkness parted, splitting into two distinctions with a slit of light in between. A low, dying light.
The light took the shape of a human. The light became more profound.
Without the pressure of battle, I switched to The Stranger. My focus ripped from the light to screening the visual cues that came with Revelation.
There were small red cracks, but numerous silver threads mangled and jumbled up together. All tethered to the new figure.
I filtered everything down, shedding the cracks and most of the silver threads. I focused back on the figure emerging from the darkness. The silhouette moved slowly and very cinematically out of the shroud of darkness.
His shroud misting away, faded back into oblivion. I noticed his dark features first. The inky black hair was long and silky, flowing nicely onto his shoulders. The lack of light in his eyes, their void gaze devouring me into his eyes. I shifted, mapping his sharp features; he was extremely handsome, his face almost effeminate.
I craned my neck, peering at a different angle. Then he smiled. His smile was the kind that was meant to inspire hope, a juxtaposition to his dead eyes.
I sank deeper into being The Stranger, dragging all my pain, fatigue, and doubt with the drowning Cassian personality. The point of equilibrium had been reached—a thin line between the insanity that came with fully being The Stranger and the glaring weakness that made me human.
The figure vanished in a cloud of darkness, melting out of existence. I followed the silver threads, tugging them along. I picked one and attacked.
A nocturne pillowed into my ear, its melody pushing me into a constant yet unfamiliar rhythm. My feet shuffled along the tread I had picked. The melody picked up pace as I chased the elusive shadowed figure.
On catching up, I began my barrage. He missed both my right jab and the follow-up left hook. He danced out of my next uppercut, escaping into his shadows.
The thread I was following broke, snapping like a twig.
He appeared before me.
Before I could cling onto another, a hiss tore the air. There was no glint. My body jerked to the right, fast enough to miss the blade. Its whish alerted me to the subsequent attack. Another thrust aimed at where I had dodged.
I pulled my head back, then bobbed out of the blade's trajectory.
I hopped backwards. With no string to cling to, the nocturne stopped, and the pavane of death was disabled.
While embodying The Stranger, I discovered I do not get tired or feel pain. My body becomes a husk, not a vessel, and it was proving to be useful. Despite this, my body could hardly match the movements set by the nocturne I was hearing.
Measured breaths filled my lungs, oxygenating my tight muscles. I stretched. We watched each other. No words were needed. This was our tête-à-tête.
I adopted a variant of a boxing stance. My legs were wider than the normal shoulder-length prevalent in boxing, but my arms were tucked into my ribs as a boxer's would be.
This time, I did not have to search for him. He was right before me. He had a myriad of strings projecting from him. My peering ears hopping from one song of Sundering to another.
He stood loosely, weighing me up with his eyes. His smile beamed as if he was enjoying it.
"Enjoying, right?" he asked abstractly.
He settled in a normal mid-guard. The single-edged blade was as dark and menacing as his eyes—the shadows around his face flowed like waves. I concentrated on the silver threads.
He vanished. The shadows devoured him, and silver threads snapped shortly after.
I traced him, my eyes sieving through the darkness but to no avail. On high alert, my body screamed—urging me to roll to my right, and so I did. The attacker reappeared as fast as he disappeared, the blade elongated, its tip bearing towards me with divine ferocity.
I backed away, swung my head left, then right, and left once—like a pendulum, all to avoid his jab-esque stabs. A swing to my left, forcing me to dodge to my right. I grew morbid; the last attack pushed me to my death. Space was running out since there was a half-demolished wall barring me from behind. I had to think of something quick.
He smiled. His white teeth oozing drabs of evil with their showing. The thoughts of cornering seemed to bring him profound joy. But not today.
I grew bold. This time, I rushed in. I ducked under his horizontal slash, pushing my feet against the floor. I pounced, going for a takedown.
As I flew toward him, time lapsed, my body ebbing slowly toward him. I watched as his sinister smile turned into a proud smug. I felt a phantom rope crawl around my right foot. My perception of time changed once more—the slow lapse of time turned into fast forward.
My eyes were torn from my target, forced to the empty sky as I flew backwards. It was not the slow heroic flight like my attempt to tackle. It was as if I was jerked backwards, reeled towards doom, and doomed I was.
Like a whiplash, I crashed into the very wall I was escaping from. I went through. Debris and chunks of ancient stone flying with, I bounced off the floor and then crashed into another wall. I carved my silhouette into the wall, a lack of momentum stopping me from going straight through.
For the first time, I heard the attacker's boots pressed on the floor. The rhythmic pacing of his shoes, a low and sharp clanking, grew louder as he approached.
I strived to sit up. Webs of dust and confusion blurred my vision, but his figure came into focus once he was a few feet before me. The darkness behind took the shape of tentacles swaying, winds breezing them into a sway.
"STOP!" I yelled desperately.
There was no resistance; he pushed towards me.
"STOP!"
"SLIP!"
"DIE!"
Even more desperate than the previous attempts. My throat bucked, paining, cruising through it. The order had backfired, too much power for me to call upon. Blood forced its way out of my chest, only to choke me at my crushed throat.
I wheezed.
My body was collapsing as all the pain from before stormed and raged within me. The attacker laughed. I felt him, heaving me back to a sitting position with my back against the wall.
"Enough, don't you think?" a new voice shot out the question.
"It never is," I heard the attacker back away, "You didn't answer my question."
"There is nothing to enjoy. Seeing a Dormanii choke on his blood is not as entertaining as things go," the newcomer said.
I could feel my body breaking, my fading consciousness being dragged off.
"Should have died from the outrageous decree. Foolish of him."
"Very foolish," the newcomer sounded closer than before.
"So what is it gonna be?" the attacker asked, "It's either him or me."
There was a moment of silence, and a slow grinding sound hummed. A sound of a sword being unsheathed, and similarly, sending me to my death.
"Neither!" The new voice proclaimed.
My thoughts died, and I lost consciousness...