You know the only way is forward, and you step towards the sound hesitantly, unsure of what awaits you. The laughing and crying both go louder, an endless nightmare unlit by the fluctuating otherworldly glow and pure darkness.
As you feel you must be close, the sound stops and you feel as though you’ve made a terrible mistake. Soon, loud shrieking fills the area around you and it is all you can take not to drop everything you carry to squeeze your worn hands over your ears in terror. The shrieking continues for what seems like years of torturous sound, before silencing in a sickeningly horrible gasp.
You right yourself, clutching your weapons tighter to you. You feel the sword on your hip itching to jump into battle. The air around you is still and stifling with the final screams of you wish you knew who. The space around you is suddenly illuminated, and you are blinded for the moment by the sudden change and the inability of your eyes to adjust.
You are blinded and momentarily helpless. Whatever caused the shrieks of pain is still in this virtual space with you. You feel trapped and helpless as your eyes refuse to adjust. You hold up the shield as a last ditch effort to protect yourself but you know if whatever is in here wants you gone you will be erased like the others.
What do you do?
The path stood before them, looming as it was glorious. Myos took a deep breath, and stared down the gilded gold hallway like it was his judgment day. Amaya looked at him, worrying her lip as she waited for the fiery maned and spirited boy to say something. Achernar cracked her knuckles loudly, the oak strong woman ready for anything that may come. The ravenette and, sometimes to his dismay, Myos’s best friend looked ahead with an indeterminable glint in his eye.
“Well, Myos. This is the last chance to turn back,” Zeke said at last, sighing and shifting his tensed weight to a more relaxed position, rocking to the heels of his boots. His chest was still bare, finely toned structure paling in comparison to the jarring appearance of the large black star over his heart juxtaposed to his otherwise unblemished skin. Their mark. Myos mark.
What do you do?
The text that was beginning to become all too familiar flashed across Myos’s screen, and he didn’t even need to ask to know the others had not gotten the same message that he had. The lime screen that covered his face had both been his downfall and his lifeline, the thing that he had used to disconnect him from his own reality becoming something to join him with it, only to revert back to alienating him again. And yes, heroism wasn’t his initial reality but there was no reason he couldn’t make it his now. The fates had aligned the five of them, so different yet with the same calling to drive them forward.
They had decided only the stars could decide what was in store for them. No mortal human had that privilege bestowed upon them, and no one deserved it.
Myos took a deep breath, straightening his back and stealing his gaze. “Let’s go, guys.”