John wakes up again in an unfamiliar land. The first thing he notices is an endless expanse of stars swimming across the pitch-black sky. A patch of reeds swirls and brushes against his cheeks.
John sits up and scans his surroundings. The land is nothing but reeds as far as the eye can see, with only a few scattered stones here and there.
His hand brushes against the reeds, feeling ticklish. He has no idea where he's woken up this time. While he's often found himself in unfamiliar places, this time, he's completely lost.
This is clearly not Lmemore, not Tumidus, and not Earth. A chilling sensation runs down his spine as he sees an approaching figure.
"Hello?"
John's voice oddly echoes through the place. Yet, even with his loud call, the man doesn't seem to respond. The figure looks like a middle-aged farmer, often seen in the Eyre countryside.
John moves closer, getting a better look. A blonde beard graces the man's face.
"Hello?"
Another echoing voice with no response. The man acts like John isn't even there. Frustrated, John reaches out to tap the man on the shoulder.
John's hand goes right through the middle-aged man.
His mind spins in confusion, and his head begins to hurt from the mystery of it all. No matter what he tries, John cannot touch the man. The only thing the old man does is use his knife to collect more reeds.
After some time, John gives up. He can't do anything, so he quietly follows the man. The man walks for what feels like hours, carrying his stack of reeds.
For hours, the man walks without showing any sign of fatigue, and John realizes he doesn't feel tired either.
John can sense the passage of time here. The stars swirl above him, but they offer no answers.
Eventually, the middle-aged man arrives at a shack—a broken-down wooden structure made of dark grey wood. It looks as if it has been both lived in and abandoned at once.
The man enters the shack, and John follows him inside. The interior is little more than a collection of broken tables and chairs.
At the far end of the house, a pale stone chimney stands. The middle-aged man puts all the reeds he gathered into the chimney and sets them on fire.
The reed burn in pale yellow creating a yellow smoke. It flows upward and disappears into the night sky. From this scene John realizes something, the night sky doesn't have much light shining on this reed-ridden land.
However, he could see perfectly fine without it. No matter where he looked he could see everything as if he was in the middle of the day. But the sky is clearly that of the night.
After burning the reed, the middle-aged man heaves a sigh. John could feel that it was a sigh of sadness from the man's yellow eyes.
John moves closer to see the reed burning, the pale yellow flame has a majestic feeling to it. Mesmerizing flow every time it moves. Upon closer look, one could see the glitter of white spreading across the fire.
After some time, the fire burns out, and the middle-aged man walks out of the house. John follows him, with nothing else to do.
The field of reeds stretches endlessly in all directions. Occasionally, a stone can be spotted protruding from the ground. John breaks away from the middle-aged man to investigate one of these stones.
Juronma Targon
A name is etched in an unknown language. But John can read it perfectly, unlike Eyrish, which he's still trying to learn. Upon closer inspection, the stone bears row after row of names. An unsettling sensation creeps up on him, and he stops reading.
Turning back, he follows the distant figure of the middle-aged man.
Time passes—how long, he doesn't know. It feels like years and seconds blending together. Finally, they reach a cliff. Beside it stands a massive stone, similar to the one in the field of reeds. A wooden bridge stretches across the cliff to the other side.
Here, the reed-filled land ends, giving way to barren, black rocks that stretch endlessly into the distance. The middle-aged man continues his walk and crosses the bridge.
John, drawn to the stone before the bridge, is about to examine it when something catches his attention. There's text written on the stone:
WE KILL HIM
WE KILL HIM
WE KILL HIM
WE KILL HIM
WE KILL HIM
WE KILL HIM
Written in a blood-red, unknown text. A deep sense of unease settles over him. With every word he reads, it feels as though his body is about to shatter. The air grows unnaturally cold, despite the lack of any wind. John forces himself to stop reading and turns his focus back to the middle-aged man.
The row of text would have driven him mad if he'd read any further.
Walking across, the wooden bridge swayed left and right. The ropes barely held the bridge together, but John wasn't deterred. He kept walking, crossing the cliff.
Looking back, John couldn't suppress his curiosity. The deep, dark hole of the cliff felt unnervingly intriguing. His eyes drifted toward it, but he couldn't see the bottom. A rock fell from the cliff into the endless abyss.
Even with his innate night vision, the depth of the hole eluded him.
His heartbeat quickened, faster and faster. The desolate land seemed to hold no life except for the middle-aged man, yet John felt a deep fear rising in his chest. Something was there.
In the dark abyss.
Something was there.
Something was there.
Something was there.
Nothing was there.
"AHGAGHAGHGHGHGH!"
John woke up in his hotel room. His body was soaked in sweat, his breath erratic, and his heart raced uncontrollably.
"Master, are you alright?"
The maid, who had been sitting beside him, was startled awake by his scream.
"...." John struggled to answer properly. "J-just a bad dream..." Hopefully he was right this time.