across the sea of space, the stars are other suns

If only it was

a source of power,

setting things in motion.

Instead it is merely

a bringer of destruction,

The first thing you’ll notice is the stench. Imagine all the worst things your nose ever had the displeasure of dealing with, and you still won’t come close to how bad it is. The ground is moist, you keep getting stuck. Your eyes burn, the foul air seems to be made of acid. Green smog is rising from the ground, obscuring the view. It is hard to see anything.

Around you are pools of water. Some have bubbles forming on their surface, others foam violently, and others have an oily layer, its shine seemingly mocking rainbows. You take care not to step in them.

Breathing hurts. You cover your mouth with a piece of fabric. Your skin itches.

Walking is an exhausting procedure. Each slow step accompanied by this nauseating sound of pulling your foot out of the sludge. The soil doesn’t want to let go of you, wants to keep you. Clinging to your feet, it begs you to stay. You don’t dare to rest.

There are bodies. They stick out from the muddy ground and the slimy water. From some only the bones are left, from others… You don’t let your eyes rest on them for too long. You feel sick.

Unfortunately, there is still life in this inhospitable swamp. Insects swarm around you, and you try your best, to brush them off. Some still manage to sting you, causing terrible pain, while others leave you with numbness that seems to paralyze your limbs. Your head starts to feel dizzy. Your body gets hot. Seeing becomes harder, as your eyes lose focus more and more.

You’re breathing heavily. You don’t want to breathe in more of this polluted air than necessary but the choice is not yours to be made. Your limbs feel heavy. Walking, already difficult, gets worse. You are tired.

Your eyes are teary, but behind the thick wall of fog, you spot a garrison. There is a city, but it seems off. It is crooked, sloping. It seems as though the water surrounding it, is consuming it slowly, making it one with the morass. There are signs of damage on the walls; it looks like it stems from rain. You are suddenly very glad that it didn’t rain while you were here. If it can cause such destruction to this fortress, you don’t want to imagine what it would do to you.

Out of the wall stick pipes, letting sewage leak out of the city, where it joins with the other questionable fluids outside. The smell here, how that is even possible is beyond you, is more intense than in the rest of the marshlands. There is trash piling up outside of the walls, mindlessly thrown outside. You feel like vomiting.

In the centre of this city of waste is a tower that once must have been of utmost beauty, but now has succumbed to the same decay as everything in these lands, the colour unrecognizable under the slime and rot. What once must have been standing tall and proud, now crooked and crumbling.

You enter the city. The gates are not closed, are not guarded. Inside you are greeted by barricaded doors and windows. You can hear coughing. The streets are so filled with waste and mud you can’t even see the stones beneath it. You proceed to go deeper inside, everything is better than being outside, you figure.

On your way, you see carts with bodies piled upon them in alleyways, hooded figures scurrying from house to house, demanding to be left inside. You hide your face and hurry past them.

Eventually, you arrive at a palace. A golden building elevated on pillars. In front of it a plaza, filled with people, searching through the piles of trash that are even here. Out of the palace windows, gold and silver seem to burst, jewels luster inside, fine silks hang from the walls. Some of those precious items have fallen to the ground, where more people fight to claim them for themselves. The building seems to burst, seemingly overfilled with all of everything. Music fills the air, getting through from inside of the palace, you can hear laughter and agitated conversations.

You awake. Your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings. And there is… nothing. Just gray rocks, and a sky, gray and without stars, a sky filled with smoke. Despite the smoke, that should make breathing difficult and have you choking, the air is clear. You may feel a faint but stinging pain in your chest, your throat, a slight headache, it is different for everybody. But all your senses feel like they are experienced through a barrier. They feel dull.

Where did you come from? What did you do before you got here? Your memory is foggy. A thick veil lazily shifts around in your head, obscuring the past. Who are you? Where are you?

You decide to explore, maybe this way you’ll find some of the answers you’re looking for. So you begin your journey.

The view doesn’t change. It’s the same rocky ground, flat and without any features, you could use to orientate yourself. Here and there, you can spot some sparse vegetation. Dry and crippled, more dead than alive. Slowly the feeling returns into your limbs, though it still doesn’t feel whole. Something is missing, but you can’t quite point out what it is. As the numbness of your arms and legs fades, the dullness of your ears also begins to disappear and you begin to hear things again, or rather you notice that you can’t hear anything besides your own steps and breathing. No wind, only silence. This place seems to be completely empty. You can’t help but start to feel like you belong. Don’t you too have this emptiness inside of you?

The more you walk, the more you come to the conclusion, whatever it is that you are missing, you will not get it back. Although, a small slither of hope remains. After all, can we ever know for sure? So you walk on.

You notice a single red light on the horizon. Has it been there from the beginning? You squint your eyes to get a better look at it. You don’t think it’s a star. Since it is the only remarkable thing in this landscape that you have come across so far, you decide to follow it.

After a while, you realize the pain you felt after waking up, is gone. This must be a good sign, right? But you still can’t remember. Haven’t found any answers yet. To the sound of your steps joined the sound of water, however. And soon after, you find what appears to be a river. Its water has the colour of rust or blood, and you refrain from drinking it. You don’t seem to get thirsty anyway, or hungry for that matter. You don’t feel anything.

It feels like you’ve been walking for days. The sky didn’t change, there seems to be no sun, no moon. However, the red light got bigger and you can now see in the distance, what seems to be spines. It could be towers. You count seven of them. Perhaps some kind of civilization?

You know what happened to you now. Not everything has come back yet, but you know why you’re here. In the distance, you hear noises. It sounds like there’s an army marching. You can’t see them, despite there not being anything to block your view.

Ruler of the second, yet first. The first safe haven. As safe as it gets in a place at this at least. It may very well be the end of your journey or only the beginning, for not everybody’s journey is the same.

All are welcome to enter, in fact, you can’t pass through without. You won’t even notice, suddenly part of the crowd. From nothing to everything. It might overwhelm you, different figures around you, with and without faces, variety and diversity, colourful and chaotic, hasting in all directions. If so, keep your eyes locked on the Tower. It stands strong and still. Not moving. No matter how long you walk, it will be there for you to see, looming. You have a desire to reach it. You walk into its direction.

You pass by stands and shops. They sell and buy everything that you desire. But you neither hear nor see the sellers, fighting for your attention, holding wares in front of your face, yelling prices and deals into your ears. All you see is the Tower. And it is not moving. You may walk for days. You cannot tell. Nothing here ever sleeps, night and day are impossible to tell apart. You feel no hunger, you feel no fatigue. You feel thirst. It is hot, so hot. Thousands of bodies around you. A pulsing crowd of meat. The soles of your feet feel like they’re on fire. The floor is blazing. You feel like you are slowly melting. And everyone around you is melting as well. But you keep walking, no need to worry about such trivial things. All that matters is the Tower. It will have what you wish for. You may not know what it is, or maybe you do. It does not matter. What matters is, once you reach the Tower, it will be yours. A promise that keeps you going while you are being burned alive. Once you reach the Tower, you know the heat will fade and you will be able to breathe again. So you keep walking, and with you, all the other citizens walk too. Each on their own journey to the Tower. Each doomed to wander through the streets forever, for it is a destination impossible to reach. No matter how long you walk, it stays in the distance and you do not seem to get any nearer.

Some others find themselves able to withstand the Tower’s call. Or maybe they were able to break free from their trance. Break free from the Tower and all the other invitations and offers. They may even desire to leave. But travellers, be wary. Leaving as well proves to be a difficult challenge, even after gaining back control of mind and will. The city does not want its prey to leave.

Surrounded by imposing walls, the only way out is through the gates, which are heavily guarded. But why would you want to leave?

Those chains a deception

Loosely around my wrists

Yet I stay there

Frozen in place

Merely a temporary distraction

Ive left a 100 times,

Ive died a 100 times.

Always the others reason on your mind

Do not forget

A robot, step by step

Mindless machine, you keep going

The earth beneath you

Melting ice and frost

Life breaking free of The Cold Ones grasp