“Keep your heads down, men!” A soldier shouted amidst a wave of gunfire.

  “We need to get those workers out of here now!” Another yelled.

  “It’s coming back around!” One panicked. “Duck!”

  A massive ethereal fil of swirling, purple mist, the size of a rge chariot, swung down from the air. Hein’s Guard soldiers, who had taken cover behind a pile of crates, shouted in a mix of shocked surprise and fear and tried to dive out of the way as the ghostly spiked ball began to scrape along the ground. Despite its dreamlike visage, the disembodied weapon carried tremendous mass, shattering the earth and gouging a trench, like a giant sweeping its weapon.

  A few soldiers were able to avoid the sudden death approaching them, though one was too slow. Upon contact, I could see from my vantage point up in the hole overlooking the construction site, his eyes fshed, boiled, and began to burn before being bsted into a cloud of viscera alongside the flung debris.

  Then, like some sort of bird, the weapon took off in the air, banked around, and swung back toward the remaining soldiers as if some invisible entity was wielding it. I watched as men and women cried and dove out of the way of the weapon, though few were lucky enough to avoid its impact.

  I need to help them. They're all dying! I thought.

  Focus, the calm goblin said, we can help them by stopping Putinov.

  Take this newfound rage and fuel the power within you. Fury encouraged.

  They were right, but there was a problem. Where was Putinov? I scanned the construction site, now turned battlefield, and couldn’t see them anywhere. The few surviving soldiers stationed here were pushing workers inside the warehouse and hospital, while others seemed to be trying to stop the giant magic weapon. Yet, neither Lucien nor my aunt. Except… I turned my attention to the central tower, the rge generator-like structure that towered above everything else.

  At its base, I saw something that hadn’t been there before. A rge, perfectly smooth hole, like ice cream carefully scooped from its container, about ten feet in diameter, had been formed nearby.

  Another scream came from my right as the ethereal fil attacked again. My eyes flicked towards it, and I felt a surge of adrenaline kick in. Without thinking, I bsted a powerful gust of air behind me and rocketed off the building towards a few remaining soldiers cowering away from the ghostly weapon.

  My gut lurched in my chest, and my body began to arch downwards as I descended toward the earth at a rapid pace. Moments before impact, I fired another bst, which buffeted and slowed my nding. I skidded to a stop beside the soldiers with my wand held high over my head. “Bubble!” I yelled as white, swirling whisps winked into existence and formed a shield around the three Hein’s Guard and me.

  The fil struck the bubble with immense force, and although it wasn't directly connected to me, I felt the impact vibrate through me. The weapon bounced off the shield, where a visible crack formed, and my ears rang as it sounded like a truck had just smmed into a wall. The fil spiraled back and, as if somehow possible, seemed confused for a second before whirling itself at us again.

  I gnced over my shoulder at the soldiers. “Get the hell out of here! Stop anyone else from getting too close!”

  I didn’t wait for a response as I focused back on the fil and strengthened the shield once again. When the fil impacted the bubble this time, my ears felt like they would explode as ethereal sparks exploded in every direction. Bright white cracks spider-webbed across the shield, and the impact's force sent me stumbling back towards the soldiers, who were now running for cover inside the office building.

  You’re wasting time. Fury growled. Why are you saving these men when your foe is below?

  I can’t just leave people to die, I thought. If I can save them, I will.

  The moment you go below, that thing will return to killing. You know that, right?

  “Dammit!” I cursed after catching my footing. My heart raced as I watched the fil swirl in the sky, the rge ghostly ball spinning by its chain as it prepared for another strike. “I’ll do what I can!” I turned and darted toward the hole, and the fil gave chase.

  Bsting a torrent of air behind me, I rocketed forward just as the weapon struck the concrete. The ground exploded in a cloud of debris. My arms and legs swung wildly as I failed to slow my fall at the st second. I nded on the ground in the splits, and my torso rocked forward, smming my face into the pavement before I went ass over tea kettle onto my back. Pain fred all over, and I wanted to cry out, but I held it in and immediately began to channel rejuvenation and resilience, healing and numbing the pain.

  It’s going to strike again! Fury warned, and I quickly rolled onto my side and pushed myself to my feet. I gnced over my shoulder, and sure enough, the magical weapon was rising from the debris cloud, its spiked head grinding along the pavement as it was dragged toward me.

  Facing forward briefly, I saw I was only a handful of feet away from the hole. “No time like the present!” I shouted as the fil darted for me.

  I clenched my teeth and bsted myself with a gust toward the gaping hole. Flying towards it rapidly, the fil swung wide for me, and I narrowly dodged out of the way mid-flight. Gncing back, I watched as the ethereal weapon’s arch made it so that it was about to strike the generator. Yet, to my surprise, it froze mid-swing unnaturally, as if someone had abruptly pressed pause on a recording, and it pivoted away to strike the ground beside it just as I smmed into the far side of the hole.

  I gasped as the wind was knocked out of me, my body then tipped forward as I began to fall into the darkened pit. “Ah, shit!” I wheezed, forcing oxygen into my lungs, and I started to blow air beneath me to slow my descent. I plummeted for what seemed like thirty, forty, then fifty, and sixty feet until finally, the ground became visible, and I struck the pavement floor with a huff and dropped to one knee. The nding was rough, and my legs ached, though with some quick magic, the sensation faded, and I stood up straight.

  I was in an underground tunnel. It was dark, damp, and certainly not quiet. A heavy thrumming was coming far from my left, deeper down, and beneath the sound of heavy machinery, I could hear, and even slightly feel, distant rumbling.

  Gncing about, I shot a look upward and breathed a small sigh of relief. The mystical weapon wasn’t giving chase. Part of me noted the oddity in that; then again, if it was some kind of spell Putinov conjured, it was probably preprogrammed to work only above. However, my interest in such dynamics was quickly dashed when a nearby explosion caught my attention.

  A battle is happening. Most likely Lucien and Putinov–or whoever they are. I thought and wasted no time rushing that way. Gripping my wand, I ran into the darkness, following only the sounds of distant rumbling to guide my way. Though eventually, I pulled out my wand and began to focus on channeling a spell I recall Mother having shown me.

  "Mother of stars, your heavens are so bright; lend me your guidance on a path of light. Fireflies." I recited the brief incantation as I ran, and suddenly the darkness began to fade as glowing blue whisps came into being and danced around me, revealing a corridor of concrete and pipes.

  Up ahead, the corridor turned into a corner that went to the right, and I dashed around it and saw a blinding light at the end of the tunnel, which ended in a T junction. The light was coming from the right path, and from what I could hear and feel. The fight was happening there.

  Loud bangs and crashes echoed through the cacophony of chaos. Yet over it all, I could hear voices.

  “Mon ami, I tire of this dance!” I heard Lucien taunt as I pushed myself harder.

  “Then stand still and die again, fool!” I heard the distorted voice of my aunt Saria scream.

  “Aye, I wish I could, but I know how badly things will end–” The ground shook, and once again, the world became negative.

  I nearly tripped and screamed as my brain suffered a sudden migraine, and I stumbled forward, clutching my skull. As before, the world shifted quickly, only to revert to normal in an instant. Ahead, I saw the silhouette of a body fly through the air, hit the concrete, and slide to a stop.

  I cursed and bsted the air behind me with a gust and flew toward the person. Readying my wand just in case the figure I saw was Putinov. In only a few moments, I braced myself, nded on the concrete, and stumbled forward clumsily before catching myself just before Lucien, who now y sprawled before me, a smoking, charred wound on his chest.

  “Sacre bleu…” He muttered dazedly. “I hadn’t expected that, Mon ami,” He said, their eyes shifting to me.

  I dropped to my knees and began casting Rejuvenation. “Don’t worry, I have you–”

  “No!” Lucien coughed. “Not yet–”

  It was too te, the bst of energy struck me in my side, and I screamed as everything I could feel became agony. It was as if every molecule of my being combusted into fme, every nerve ending firing on all cylinders as my mind became overwhelmed. Whatever had hit me lifted me off the ground and propelled me back.

  I nded on my shoulder and slid across the ground. I was winded, my lungs screamed for air, and I gasped and squirmed as my nerves fired off as if I had been electrocuted. I tried to focus on healing myself, but all I could focus on was the pain, oh god, the pain.

  Something grabbed me by the leg, an unnatural force dragged me across the ground back towards where I came before, lifting me into the air upside down. However, I wasn’t suspended for long; whatever held me threw me back to the ground. My vision fshed, and I bcked out for a moment.

  The next thing I knew, I was being flung into a wall. Then I was spiraling through the air, crashing into the ceiling, before finally being smmed back into the pavement. The pain was gone. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t tell if I was even breathing. I was dead. I was fucking dead again… Except, how could I be thinking if that were the case?

  Because you’re not dead, dumbass. Fury boiled within. Once again, your body is broken. That asshole got the drop on you and pummeled us. Then threw us around like a goddamn ping-pong ball because you weren’t paying attention.

  Aren’t you the one who suggested we go in without a pn? I thought.

  We were supposed to go in and beat the hell out of them! Not sit down and treat the magical French guy! You pyed yourself, you idiot! Now we’re screwed!

  My stomach dropped. I did screw this up. What was I thinking? Why the hell did I go and do that?

  Calm yourself. A soothing presence washed over me. We’re not out of this yet. If we’re thinking, then that’s good. Start healing now.

  What’s the point? I thought. We’re screwed; they’re going to finish us off.

  The calm voice sighed. They haven’t yet. If they wanted to kill us, we’d already be dead, wouldn’t we? Perhaps they’re being distracted.

  Fury began to boil more. They’re right! We may have a chance at this! Fix me up, Coach. Send me in there!

  Do you want to take over? I thought as I began channeling my ether.

  Hell, yeah, I’ve given you enough chances to try out what I've got. Fury snarled. But now, I wanna show you what true, unadulterated fury looks like.

  The calm presence shuddered. I don’t know about this, Luna. You’ve glimpsed what was behind Fury’s door not too long ago. What we’ve bottled up in there is potent. If unleashed–

  Go ahead, I ordered. I’ve stumbled about long enough. I want this to end. I want to save them, but I need your help. Please.

  Fury cackled with pleasure.

  Fury

  The door was open. A locked, confined space packed tightly with anything and everything that had ever wronged Luna. From the time her dreams of being an illustrator were dashed to how her first love had rejected her, to memories she could no longer recall yet still hurt, and so much more. It was an abyss, a swirling mass of darkness enhanced and cultivated by the power given to her by Shaed the Dark Lord, the Master of Pains, for what felt like so many moons ago, was once again given life.

  Fury, it called itself. A persona, an emotion given a name and a purpose. A sensation that has always been there but never once had a voice till now. Oh, how it felt to be free finally. To drop the facade, let it all out, and just go absolutely ape shit.

  Fury flung open the door the second Luna slunk away, and her well erupted. Bck tendrils of ether wrapped around her like a web, cocooning her body as the darkness began to mend her broken body like thousands of little doctors. First restored was her hearing, where she could finally make out the sounds of that Frenchman and the crazed bastard arguing about god knows what. Not fighting, but arguing… How strange.

  Next, she restored sight, but it didn’t help; she was wrapped in darkness. However, what did help was mobility; once her spine was mended, she could feel sensation returning, but she was quick to discard that. Pain would only get in the way. Next, she began to move, testing her restored limbs and legs before pushing herself up to her knees.

  As she stood, the darkness melted off her skin before evaporating into nothing. Fury was fixed and ready to end the bastard who broke her. In front of her, silhouetted against the light of something in the back, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter where she was or what the pce looked like; what she cared about was the one who ambushed her. And that bastard was one of the two people standing before her.

  “Saria, you have to fight them!” Lucien shouted as he clutched the wound on his chest and took an unsteady step forward. “You know what’s happening isn’t right, you have to resist! She’s your niece, your sister’s daughter.”

  The woman standing before Lucien hesitated, then stepped back. Their face contorted between contempt and anguish. “I-I’m trying! I’m sorry–I’m so sorry!” Their face shifted, and she screamed. “Enough! I told you to begone, why won’t you obey?!”

  “The neckce,” Lucien said, “Just take it off, and you’ll be–”

  The air rippled and crashed behind Lucien, and Fury was on Saria in an instant. Propelled forward with a powerful burst of ether, the smaller girl smmed into Saria’s chest, and the two of them went sprawling into the vast control room beneath the generator’s base. Lucien shouted and rushed in after them with an outstretched hand as Fury scrambled to their feet and flung a firebolt toward their possessed aunt.

  Saria pushed themselves to their knees, gasped in surprise, raised their arms, and deflected the fire with a shield at the st second, scattering an array of pure-white whisps that danced and swirled around them and the generator. Saria’s face contorted into anger, they pnted their feet into the pavement and unched themselves toward Fury, just when Lucien tackled them mid-air.

  Saria yelped with surprise as the two impacted the ground and rolled. They tumbled about amid tangled limbs and curses. Lucien grasped them by their throat with both hands and pinned them to the concrete.

  “Saria, listen to me!” Lucien grunted as he shouldered off multiple assaults from Saria, now Puntinov’s grasping hands. “You’re in there, you can fight them off!” He shouted as his hands began to fumble with Saria’s neckce.

  Fury dashed toward the two of them just as Saria’s face twisted once again, and she opened her mouth; from it came a swirl of red, pink, and blue whisps that shot forth as she screamed. Like a banshee’s howl, Fury’s eardrums shattered, and her vision pulsed. Her hands shot to her ears, and she cried out as her brain felt as if it were going to turn to liquid and drip from her ears. Calling upon the ether within her, she began to channel resilience to numb the pain when suddenly, her hearing began to fade, be repced with a faint ringing.

  The pain was gone, but gradually, all sound ceased. She pulled her hands away from her head and saw blood staining her palms. She looked at Putinov and saw they were still screaming, or so it seemed, because no sound was coming from them. Around them, the multi-colored whisps danced with the white ones, twirling around them all, and bouncing up and down above Lucien, who now y sprawled on the floor cupping his ears. Without the noise, it almost seemed comedic. Fury was deaf, and she smiled.

  Turning her attention back to the wailing figure on the floor. Fury threw herself at Putinov and smmed into their chest. Her hands cmped tightly around their shoulders, she subconsciously channeled ether into her arms, giving her the strength to lift them from the ground, then channeled a powerful gust that exploded outward behind her, throwing both her and Putinov toward the generator’s base.

  Midflight, Fury bsted a second wave of air beneath them before smming into the machine, which sent them upwards toward the heightened ceiling in the vast chamber. Intending to sm and crush the arch-krek-head against concrete, Fury propelled them upwards even faster and smiled at them. Just as they abruptly disappeared from Fury’s grasp, leaving nothing but air as they seemingly blinked from existence. Fury blinked, then cursed and twisted her body around in the air, frantically looking to see where the archbishop had gone. She extended her hand toward the ceiling, and she was rapidly approaching and summoned a gust of wind that blew her away seconds before impact.

  She was now falling back toward the ground, her insides lurching from the sudden change in velocity and direction. To combat this, she channeled resilience, which not only numbed her body's pain but also all other sensations. As she continued to drop, she scanned the vast room around her. The chamber was enormous and circur, about a hundred and fifty to two hundred feet in diameter, with a dome-shaped wall and ceiling that rose another hundred feet or so. In the center stood a looming pilr of magrite, mostly encased in metal and other chunks of machinery, and between the gaps shot beams of bright blue light.

  It was here that Fury spotted them. Putinov stood at the base of the pilr before a console, where they dropped to one knee and opened a metal case; from within, pure white light, nearly blinding, shone.

  Fury threw her right arm out to the side and bsted herself to the left, then flung herself forward with a gust from behind, essentially slingshotting herself around the curvature of the pilr. Her hair fpped behind her, and all she could hear was the wind as she then angled herself like a diver falling toward a pool of water and flew toward the blinding white light.

  Yet, still deafened from before. She couldn’t hear Lucien’s shouts warning her not to go near. When it seemed that Fury was within arm’s reach of Putinov, the archbishop gnced over their shoulder, and she saw the psychotic smile on their face, and suddenly, everything went white.

  Luna Ashflow

  I was burning. It felt as if my flesh was being peeled from my bones, and my skin melted as every atom that made me who I was screamed with unfiltered agony. A surge of overwhelming power, unlike anything I’ve felt, rushed over me like a wave, over and over and over again. Each pulse made my very being wheep for the sweet release of death. My mind tried to bck out, tried to shut down, yet it couldn’t. For every wave of agony, a source of adrenaline and energy would jolt me awake as if some sicko wanted me to be awake for every mind-numbing second of it.

  Alongside my chorus of cries, I could hear Lucien behind me buckle and scream. Where had Fury gone? Why wasn’t she in control? What was happening?!

  The door I had opened to release her was shut. Locked away, and with it, the power, the anger, regret, and hatred, all of it banished.

  Another wave hit me, and my essence screamed. The core of my power, the well inside me that contained my ether, surged. Like it was overflowing, the power assaulting me was also filling it. Yet, like with anything, it was too much, far, far too much. My well was bursting, and with it, I felt it would take me.

  I could hear my Aunt Saria, no Putinov, howl with manic ughter. “Do you recognize this?” They said as the wave of agony faded just enough for me to concentrate. I was on my knees in the central chamber in front of the pilr of magrite. Silhouetted against the light of the pilr’s blue light, Putinov, or whoever the hell they are, held in their right hand a blinding rod of crystalline light.

  The rod in their hand fshed, and with it, another wave of agony struck us both. I screamed and fell back, as if struck by a physical force. My body writhed on the floor, curling and uncurling as I thrashed and wailed to the point my voice was becoming hoarse.

  “This is his power!” Putinov shouted over my cries. “The power you try to mimic and twist into your own. A mockery you’ve all made of his gift! Feel it! Truly feel it!”

  My back cracked violently as I twisted and gritted my teeth. My mind frantically tried to contain the power bursting forth from my core as I attempted to channel. Yet, as I tried, my brain erupted with an intense, excruciating migraine. My skull felt like it was splitting, my ears popped, and something wet began to dribble down the sides of my neck, and my eyes bulged.

  I was hopeless. Whatever it was Putinov held, it was suppressing my power, as if I had just come back from the Cerebellium. Yet, it was far worse. I could hardly move, and it felt as if I tried to channel anymore, my fucking head would explode. I had to do something, anything.

  Putinov turned their back to me and focused on the console at the base of the tower. “For ages, I’ve done his work.” They said, “I’ve tried to show you and teach you about his ways, but you never listened.” They sighed and stepped forward. “A few times I thought you came close… But, yet, everything here just seems to be holding you down. Don’t you see that?” They gestured around us, nonchantly.

  “F-Fuck you!” I choked out through another wave of pain as I flopped onto my belly and began to push myself back to my knees.

  Putinov gnced over their shoulder, sighed, and shook their head. “Of course you don’t…” They reached out and tapped the buttons on the console. “Your fruitless determination to cling to this pathetic existence will forever be an enigma to me…”

  “Bh, bh, bh!” I groaned and winced as another wave of nausea and pain hit me. “Sh-shit!” I clutched my forehead and gred at Putinov. “I don’t give a damn what you believe… Or what you think,” I said through gritted teeth as I pushed myself onto one, wobbly foot. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about… And frankly, I-I couldn’t care less.” I panted as I got to my other foot.

  The console in front of Putinov hissed as they tapped one final button, and a circur compartment, rge enough to fit the glowing rod in their hand, slid open. Steam billowed out of the hole as they gnced back at me, their face solemn. “It fills me with sorrow to see you like this every time,” they said. “Clinging fruitlessly to something that can never st. Like a lone leaf on a tree bracing itself against the coming frost… It’s futile.” Another wave bsted into me.

  I pnted my feet and screamed as my hands gripped the sides of my head, soaked with the blood that dribbled from my ears. Yet I remained firm, my teeth clenching through the pain, tears welling in my eyes as I gred at Putinov, who turned away from me.

  “L-Luna!” I heard Lucien gasping through the pain, and something cttered behind me and slid into my foot. I gnced down, and resting beside my foot was his luger pistol. “Shoot the bastard!” He croaked.

  Trembling, I reached down and grasped the gun with both hands, the weapon cold and heavy, unlike my Father’s cycler. I looked up to see Putinov smirking as they slid the rod into the machine. “Do it,” they said, “It won’t change what’s already be–”

  The kick from the gun sent me stumbling back as I squeezed the trigger and fired. A cloud of red mist followed by a metallic cng as the bullet pierced Putinov’s upper chest and struck the machine, painted the console a sickly red. For a second, their expression changed: smugness gave way to shock, and for a brief moment, it looked as if Saria had returned, looking at me with surprise.

  “Luna…”? She squeaked, I screamed, and fired again.

  The second shot struck her in the shoulder, the force sending her back into the console. I squeezed the trigger again and continued to scream as the third missed and hit the machine, piercing a chunk of exposed crystal that exploded outwards with archaic sparks. I fired a fourth shot, this time striking her directly in the forehead, a fountain of gore exploding out the back of her head, which painted the machine, and her body crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap.

  Yet, the agony wasn’t over. A massive surge, far rger than what I’ve yet to experience, erupted from the machine and struck me. My well burned inside, and I howled and dropped the gun. My mind began to go bnk, my vision blurred, and for a second. The world started to shift; the central magrite pilr glowed brighter, its hue shifting from blue to white. The mechanical cogs and wheels around the chamber began to whirl and come to life.

  Lucien, who seemed to be suffering the same effects as I, moaned and crawled across the ground, gradually pulling himself toward the machine. “We must shut it off!” He cried. “Before it’s too te!”

  I crumpled to my knees, my forehead pressed against the floor, I pounded my fists, and tried to breathe. The room flooded with noise as cogs turned and steam hissed from pipes. The generator was coming to life; it hummed and glowed brightly, its white light seeming to travel from its base up the shaft. I felt helpless and stunned. I couldn’t move; the pain was unbearable, yet I had to do something, anything.

  I tried to focus, to concentrate on my power; I needed to channel some form of magic to overcome this agony. Yet when I tried, I was only met with another wall of anguish. My body would tense up, my ears would bleed, and I felt like I was going to die. All of this was for nothing; in the end, I would lose, and I didn’t even know why.

  Why was Putinov doing this? What were they rambling about? Where did Shaed go, and why hasn’t he tried to help? And what of Cereb, that entity I felt so familiar with in the Cerebellium? All of the questions that would probably never be answered ran through my mind, all because of some psycho religious nut who tried to blow up the city.

  Just my fucking luck. To think that I would die again trying to do something good. Would I be offered a third chance? Like a video game where a character has three lives? I doubt it. Shaed had said something about me having multiple lives before, yet I don’t remember any of them, and Cereb mentioned something about me being an echo, whatever that meant.

  In the end, if I just go, perhaps I could try again…

  “That isn’t how this works, unfortunately.” Through the agony of it all, Shaed’s voice startled me back into focus. “I have little time to expin, but first, you must shut off that machine. I can temporarily protect you from their will, but even I cannot do so for long. There is no time for questions, act!”

  As if a switch was flipped. The throbbing pain in my core and mind vanished, leaving only pins and needles like that of a sleeping limb that was woken. I shuddered and flopped a bit on the floor before scrambling to my knees, where I began to crawl. I panted and grunted as I pushed myself to my feet mid-crawl and stumbled toward the console. Coming up to the machine, I hesitated only briefly to acknowledge the corpse of my aunt beside the blood-soaked device, where chunks of brain and bone stuck to knobs and buttons.

  “Quickly, Luna,” Shaed’s voice wavered in my mind. “I’m already losing concentration!”

  I refocused and looked over the console. Dozens of crystalline buttons fshed, gauges with needles and numbers cycled back and forth. I had no idea what to press, turn, or pull. My heart hammered against my chest.

  “I-I don’t know what to–” I began, but stopped when I noticed the obvious lever, with bold, red text in Maurich and multiple other transted nguages.

  Emergency Shutdown.

  “--Oh.” I said, my mouth dry as a bit of embarrassment crossed over me, and I reached for it before screaming in fear when someone violently grabbed onto my leg.

  “You’re already… Too te…” Saria’s voice quivered, and I looked down to see her corpse sitting up, the bloodied bullet hole in her head slowly stitching itself closed. One eye focused on me while the other zily stared off into space. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. “The beacon has been lit, Father has heard us… Hope comes to us once again.”

  “Would you just shut up already?” I snapped, kicked their hand off my leg, and yanked the emergency lever.

  A loud metallic bang echoed throughout the chamber, followed by horrific screeches as metal gears ground to an abrupt halt. The hole I had accidentally shot into the pilr violently sparked and sent me stumbling away just as Shaed’s power seemed to fail, and I was bsted with one final wave of intense pain.

  Almost as if out of retaliation for what I’ve done. My mind screamed and fell back, clutching my skull. My vision blurred as the world distorted once again, as colors and shapes began to meld and shift, and I could swear among them, I could see… People? Muddled silhouettes, loosely defined shapes that resembled people of all shapes and sizes standing around me. I couldn’t make out much when I tried, but one final assault on my consciousness sent me into a shrill cry, and finally, everything went dark, and I bcked out.

  “The Beacon of Hope, he called it. The light that’ll signal the dawn of a new age and a return to a time long forgotten. From its light the father shall return to shepherd their children beneath their umbrel…” - Unnamed Kazoran scripture

  ImmortanJoJo