The rigidity in his limbs was unnatural.

His breathing was short, quickened, as his eyes searched the dark room. Any attempt to crane his neck was impossible—the paralysis had sunk deep into his bones.

He sensed a presence. It was a subtle thing, barely noticeable… but Misraaks knew. He tried to speak, but his mandibles did not budge.

The darkness in the room breathed.

Misraaks strained his eyes to peer towards the edge of the blankets he'd been using as temporary bedding during the development of the Variisis Core. Rays of moonlight from a nearby window allowed him to spot the gnarled fingers of a shadowed hand curl and rip into the fabric. A chill accompanied its agonizingly slow ascension up his body, tendrils dancing wildly off its twitching figure. A chorus of whispers rose into a symphony.

The entity lifted its head to reveal a ring of eyes.

…Pawn…

Its voice echoed within him.

…Kell… of Demise… of Fear…

Intrusive flashes took over his mind. Fire. Burning buildings. Screaming Eliksni. At first, he thought this might have been Riis, a memory that was not his, but, instead, he recognized the familiar streets of the Last City. His home.

He looked down at his hands, coated in shadows and blood.

…We will make it their reality…

Below him was a body, torn and bloody, with Eido's face.

Panic flooded his being. Fear. A mouth grew on the creature's form, icy breath and rows of sharp teeth dripping with black sludge…

"NO!"

Misraaks shot up, suddenly free, and blinked to reveal an empty room.

The door swung open.

"Father?!"

Eido was unharmed.

Misraaks remained quiet, breathing unevenly, and gazed down at the blankets in time to see wisps of Darkness emanating from a few tears in the fabric.