Chapter 2: "A New World"
"Let's see... I guess the most logical thing would be to make sure I actually have a way out," Elyas said to himself as he "walked" while yawning.
"Wait... did I just willingly move? Holy shit! I can actually walk!" Elyas's shock at this discovery was enough to stop his train of thought. And with it, his movement ceased.
Why did it stop? Is it possible that… Elyas concentrated on moving forward. Just like that, he did.
"Okay. So for the colour, I need to say the colour. For me to move, I need to think about it. What's next? I need to cast spells to breathe?"
"Doesn't matter. Let's break out of this hell."
...
There was an exhausted man covered in sweat, lying on nothing, sailing through the gray.
Elyas tried to open a passageway out. It had been hours since he started working on it.
The exhaustion and the headache he felt every time he tried made it mandatory to take a break.
It felt like a constant pressure was put on his head. Like the incessant beating of a heart, his head thumped as a sharp pain pierced his brain.
He stood up, determined to do it this time. He raised his arms forward, each finger placed precisely where it needed to be.
He tried again.
By mere thought, cracks started to form. With a simple push, the void suddenly gave in and broke like glass.
Elyas collected and controlled each shard to make a frame. From the shards, a small window-shaped door was made.
It wasn't small, but not big either. It was just enough to let him pass through.
"Finally, a way out!" Elyas said barely through strained breath as he swiped the sweat from his forehead.
"And it looks amazing! The space around it shifts like a black hole. It looks cool!" he exclaimed gleefully, like a boy given a sword-shaped stick.
"Wait a minute… wh-where is that?..." he stopped, doubtful of what he saw. On the other side, he saw an entirely new world, unlike anything he was used to.
There were three suns in the sky. One was the old bright ball of fire. Another looked like a distant shadow of the original. It was hollow and empty; it illuminated a feeling of need and hunger. A hunger that could swallow everything in a moment.
The empty ball was a little bigger than the sun and entirely veiled by darkness. It gave an ominous yet reassuring feeling to anyone looking at it.
The third was the biggest and brightest. Seemingly made entirely of blood, a beautiful crimson. It was constantly dripping and reclaiming the droplets from its top and bottom in an endless loop.
These three rotated and circled each other in a constant stalemate to decide who would fall prey to the other.
But despite their ever-looming presence, all their distinct brightness combined couldn't pass through the thick layer of gray fog that stretched to heaven itself.
All of this was familiar to him—it was familiar to every survivor. The ever-present fog—only for people in the area. But what bugged him was the scenery beneath it.
The door he opened hovered just above the overgrown forest, which stretched for several kilometers. As far as the eye could see—or the fog allowed—it was all green.
Except in the middle. Where the lush greenery ended, his field of view opened to hundreds of thousands of collapsed buildings. Some once towered over the clouds, now buried under dirt, reclaimed by nature. Some, although decayed, still managed to stand tall. Through the fog one of them could be seen clearly.
It was a familiar police station.
What he saw was enough to shake him to his core.
"These trees… weren't supposed to be here."
"It's changed… it's not supposed to be like this!"
"Was I here for just three months? Is this forest supposed to be the central park? What happened to the residents? What happened to Michael?"
His imagination gave form to his son. His child drowning in a wave of monsters. Trampled like grass, turned to a writhing pile of flesh under the assault.
Then time came, reducing his already unrecognisable figure into mush, then rot and soon, just bones.
These images flooded his mind, coiling around his neck. His already heavy breathing slowed to a crawl. His face contorted, his mouth wide and gasping for air like a fish out of water.
He had suppressed any possibility of his loved ones in harm's way.
Elyas just stood there, time seemed to have stopped.
The only thing that brought him back to his senses, was the rhythmic thumping on his head.
As he slowly regained his composure. Elyas began to make sense of the situation.
In that short time, to calm himself, he thought of two possibilities:
First, the city of fog's line of defense broke in the span of three months, and he was the last one here.
Second, he had been trapped here longer than he thought—maybe a few years.
With those thoughts, He raised and clenched his palm, closing the window. Immediately, his headache dulled.
Defeated, his hand dropped to his waist, swaying back and forth.
He gritted his teeth and exhaled sharply. His eyes showed nothing but determination and resolve.
He had to make sure. He had to get out there as soon as possible.