“Oblivion?”
“Yes,
Oblivion.”
“How
did I get here?”
“You
didn’t,” the voice says simply.
I
pause. “So… what am I doing here?”
“Asking
questions, apparently.”
“Right.
Umm… who are you exactly?”
“A
you that is not you.”
I
let out a humorless chuckle. A riddler of
a sort. And quite a literal one at that. What a combo. Best I start from the
basics.
“Does
this… Oblivion exist?” I ask in an effort to establish a basis.
“Ha!
Brilliant! You’re the first to ask!” First?
“But of course I can’t answer that as it would be entirely dependant upon
your definition of existence, you see. Go on. Ask another.”
I
sigh inwardly. “Do I have a limited number of questions?” I say, wondering if
this isn’t some twisted game of sorts I’ve found myself in, in which if I lose…
well, best not think of that for the moment.
“Not
at all. Ask as many as you’d like. I love questions.”
Fair enough. “Is there a purpose to my being here?”
“Perhaps.”
I
sigh again, this time audibly. “Are there any questions you can answer
definitively?”
“I’m
sure that depends on the question.”
With
an effort, I try to calm myself. This is
likely a dream. ‘A you that is not you’? Sounds like a subconscious
manifestation to me. However… something does seem… off. “Did I die?”
“Possibly.”
Before
I can respond to express my growing annoyance, a vision floods my mind’s eye:
Towering
metal spires jut out from a verdant landscape. Soft light from a burnt-orange
sun shines from the edge of the world, partially silhouetting the unnatural
stalagmites, partially setting them ablaze. Framing the right side of my
vision, blizzard-infested peaks protrude from a blanket of cloud. A small
silvery thread weaves its way down the steep angles of the mountain slithering
into the spiky obstructions. My eyes follow the stream leftward through clumps
of trees that speckle rolling hills until it melds into smooth, amber-crystal
waves that gently lap at the shoreline in a small bay.
A flash of bright red light abruptly
steals my attention upwards. I can’t identify the source, but as I stare, the
sky itself seems to corrode and wither, exposing the planet to the emptiness
beyond. I quickly shift my view back to the previously spectacular panorama.
Even though only seconds had passed, what is left is hardly recognizable. The
sea had evaporated. What was once lush green grass flowing over the hills had
become ash. The mighty mountains had turned into blackened and broken shambles.
The spires, once gleaming, now twisting rusted thorns bending over the rubble
of the mountain like wicked fingers grasping what’s left before it, too, is
lost.
As
I behold the tragedy of the land, I notice the shadows consuming the world in
pieces. The sun, still just above the horizon, begins to dim to a burning ember
in the sky. It fades, as does the world around me, then begins to glow from the
inside, pouring out itself from the cracks in its coal-like shell. A wave of
crimson bursts from the dead star rushing towards me. Its path consumes the
space in an ever-growing sphere. A splash of scarlet comes again, this time
from a distance. At the collision of the wave, my eyes catch the silhouette of
another celestial being before it fades back into the nothingness and is
overcome by the wound of the cosmos. Minutes draw on as I witness the
inevitable, unable to do naught but wait. And watch. Here and there, flashes of
light pierce the emptiness. An eternity passes me by in moments. The emptiness
is now filled to the brim with the color of half-dried blood. The wave washes
over me. My vision blurs. I’m back in Oblivion. Gasping.
“What…
was that?” I manage to form the words after a minute. My voice seems foreign in
my ears.
“The
end.” A voice replies calmly. It sounds more familiar than my own. “Or the
beginning.”
The end. My mind stops for a moment. Then
another. Suddenly I hear myself speak. “When?” I am both baffled and amused at
the calmness of my voice. “When will this happen?”
I
almost hear the answer before it’s spoken. “It already has.”
