There was no sun, but there was light. There was no darkness, but there was night.

Ice was falling from the sky in large, misshapen chunks, landing inside molten lava. Upon contact, these immediately sizzled and burst into thin pillars made of hardened, jagged rock. In time, these large stalagmites would crumble down, evaporate into the sky, freeze over, and rain down again.

Nearby, an endless yet shallow ocean was flowing lazily in the wind, bubbling and simmering as it passed above the great heat. Small whirlpools and eddies also sucked some of the fragments of ice inside them, transforming them into spirals of light that emitted a bright, almost colorless glow.

And I—no, us—were inside all of this, watching it happen/conclude. Half-asleep, half-awake, half-dreaming, half-eating and half-halving.

Yet it was obvious that something in the world was wrong. Great shadows were sweeping across the lands, reaping every life they could find. Consuming it for sustenance—or for something greater, perhaps. All as a result of the recent paradigm shift/betrayal.

It mustn’t be allowed, I thought/screamed to myself.

Spreading my wings/arms, I rose into the pure air. I knew that I had to do something. It was my duty, no, my own free will. Soaring through the air, through the earth, water, and fire, through my mind, I reached the zenith/end of the world.

My dream/reality was now apparent to me. Just like the Severing, just like the Radiance, the Messenger, or many, many others, I also had my own part/function to play. I felt rejuvenated/exuberant/ebullient/exhausted/scared. There was no end to the world, but my words must end here.

I burst through everything.

No/yes.

The voices call to me

They plead to me

They’re me