This is a more complex development about what happened at the end of Dreams of Sanity, when the threads of life snapped, and a dying man found himself trapped within the mind of a terrorized little girl, holding their fate between his ghostly hands.This is mainly about the persona known as “Heiji”, who used to be alive, and now is… something that shouldn’t exist. Some of you may see him appear from time to time, although it’s not always easily noticeable. Once again, this is all OOC knowledge. It’s also the second ‘long’ story I have written in AO, so please pardon the mistakes as well.
SHI
Lost…
Lost in a mindscape that isn’t mine…
Where am I? Who am I? What am I?…
Confusion. Confusion, and deep, complete silence.
I’m all alone.
So…
Death has always been a white light–a bright, white light, before opening my eyes again and realizing I was facing good ol’ Reclaim.
So why it is dark like this?
Is this like… like when you can’t go back… all light vanishes, and you’re left alone?
Dee.
I wanted to see you again… so badly, Dee.
I’m sorry that I failed you.
A single shadow, turning into a blue spark, a faint flame burning in the dark, stirring, slowly growing. Death. Perma-death. It was somewhat different than what they had done to Deannah. In his case… in his case, they had simply erased the scan data, not… disrupted his very lifestream like they had done for her. Not much time to lose with him, in the end. But it was still painful, painful to realize, now that he was over the shock, that she was gone once again, that he was gone, that there was nobody left to help him now. A life force couldn’t last very long without a living pattern to call it back in; deep inside of him, he knew it was already too late.
He remembered a sort of… dream. Deannah hugging him close, a sad smile on her lips. Jenae clutching at his sleeve, tears in her eyes, fear on her face. Fear that if he would go, then she would die as well. Heiji tried to smile, but he had no body left to smile now–nothing, except his own thoughts, his own memories, his own… his own anger.
The Fixer had always thought that there was nothing after death, once the cellular scans stopped being useful, once you were sure that the next lethal blow would also be the last. He remembered. He remembered again that he was now dead, and that nothing of all of this would matter anymore now.
Why am I here?
Ain’t I supposed to be… dead?
So why the hell… why the hell am I still aware of myself?…
But around him, only darkness lied–darkness, and utter silence.