Snippet #2514304

I realise, as we continue walking through the ice-brushed trees, that I once found this world beautiful.

At moments, I still do. This morning, seeing the rising sun; the day before, staring out at the sun from beyond the walls of the Asylum. But it's always fleeting, always momentary. A second passes, and the world is the drab, listless nightmare it has always been. Or rather - not always. I remember when I first arrived in this land - many, many years ago - I marvelled at the change from Nevria. So much quieter, so much more subdued... almost an elegance, in a way, to the endless fields of snow.

But no longer. Now, I only see death in the cold, only see pain in the snow. I see only myself reflected in the ice, cracked and warped and split-apart; I try to refrain from staring at ice, for that reason if no other. Reminds me too much of what I'll become. No more than cracked ice in human form, splitting and creaking as I walk, always desperately seeking an end, to simply shatter into a thousand pieces and melt away into nothing.

But I won't let that happen, I reaffirm to myself. If only because of the one beside me, I will not allow it to happen. I've cut down so many - I won't Break and add her to the list. I suppose that's her other great utility to me - as well as the necessary aid she will provide, she also gives me a reason to keep moving. Someone who will judge me as I act, someone to keep me motivated. Someone to flare up my pride.

How many people have I killed? It's a question I go over a lot, and still don't have an answer. Even discounting Broken from the list, the number must be in the hundreds at least, if not the thousands. I don't regret it - not most of it, at least. That was war, and I was a soldier. I simply did what I was intended to do.

But this is different. There are no more wars - nor will there ever be. There's simply not enough humans left. It's funny, I realise now - Gough always talked about wanting an end to war. I guess he didn't see war ending quite like this. Another of this world's bitter ironies.

I continue my walk, the trees closing around us; it is getting harder and harder to slip through the gaps. No matter, I tell myself - I do keep one hand resting close to the handle of my sword, though. We'll find a way through. Another quick glance up at the sky - it is darkening faster now. Faster than it should.

It can't be...

If this world is truly breaking down... I was told, long ago, by a sorcerer that it would happen. That when mankind finally faded away, and took his perception of the world with it, there would be nothing; that things would slowly break down. The sorcerer was mad, of course - tried to incinerate me a few minutes later. But what if he was on to something? What if this reality was starting to behave unpredictably, our so-firm reality starting to crack and Break, just as we do?

I quicken my pace a little. We need to make it to the hut before nightfall. A glance to her - I am unsure if she will survive another night out here in the cold. Already, the faintest shivers have begun to take her body.

"Are you okay?" I check quickly, deciding not to let on my suspicions about the state of the world. Perhaps it is just my imagination. I need to keep a handle on that - if I Break, it's all over. I must force myself away from despair, if only for the few months it will take us to complete this last, great work.

But who knows?

Breaking might solve quite a bit...