Author's Note: To those about to read this I offer the fair warning that this is a side fic to the heavily AU "October", if you have not read at least part of that you will be very confused, very very confused, really this would just be weird without at least some reference to that. I recommend you read it, but if not then feel free to do what every you like.
Somewhere, in the distance, the ticking of a clock.
Only, warped somehow, slowing down, as if time itself is melting on the barren branches of a tree so that soon only the wasteland will remain.
He stands on the shadows of great empires and the fires of war searching for something familiar and if not that then something with meaning. He is having trouble discerning it.
And beyond that, beyond what he can see, is the edge, a black void only right in front of him that he can't quite bring himself to look at. He had always guessed at that void's existence, had labeled it as death and tried to maneuver around it, but it was not the same as truly seeing it.
Beneath his feet the mountains quake beneath the fire of heavy machine guns.
"This is neither your time nor your place, Tom Riddle, you've stepped beyond yourself."
He turns his head to find Azrael eyeing him critically as if Tom has toed some line that he should never have known existed.
"Ah, forgive me, it's an old habit and hard to break."
Azrael makes some noise of agreement at that and turns his attention from Tom to the show they were watching. "Do you find it interesting?"
"Confusing." He responds, and it is true enough, it seems sporadic, just when he finds a pattern it shifts into some different form but he continues to look, watch, and try to connect the dots all the same.
"Any attempt to prescribe meaning will leave you more discontent than when you started." Azrael relays drily, "The world is a very odd place, full of shadows and of life, but that does not mean that it requires a higher truth."
"My greatest fear is a life without meaning."
He does not know why he says that, much less if it is true, but it resonates in him. He has yet to encounter his own boggart and for many years he imagined that it would be his death, the crumpled body of Tom Riddle, but perhaps it is more subtle than that. It is the crumpled body which is left unmourned and unremembered.
"All meaning you might give yourself is ultimately superficial. Glory is fleeting but obscurity is forever. This, is the end of things, Tom Riddle."
Azrael motions to their surroundings, to the shadows of men, to the void, and to the thinly stretched walls of time that allow them to slip in and out of this moment.
"And if I choose not to believe that?"
"Then you will ultimately be disappointed."
Here he smiles, a cold smile, and he turns to view the young emperor of Ubik more closely. "You aren't Azrael."
"No, I am the image of him that you've spun for yourself." He says, rather upfront for a hallucination at the edge of existence.
"But I do not believe I will be ultimately disappointed."
"You fear it, that is enough." Azrael, the thing masquerading as Azrael, looks down once again at the plight of the people, "The vision of time is broad, beyond the wars you see even here, but when passing through it is a narrow door. Your ideas of grandeur, your dreams, your hopes, you will have to leave some of them behind if you wish to pass."
"You don't know that."
"Don't I?"
They stare at each other for a few moments and he is struck by the thought that he is really staring at himself; himself in the form of Azrael, offering him a thinly polite smile, even as his eyes stay stark and cold.
"You know more than you think you know, remember more than you choose to reflect upon, and in the end you will find these thoughts again though you refuse to think them." Azrael's head turns, towards the void, "After all, there are many things we have yet to face."
Then, almost as if he hadn't said anything at all, the illusion called Azrael looked back to Tom and said, "He has come to rescue you; I think it's best you leave this place now."
And sure enough, next to his ear, there was the almost frightened whisper, "Tom?"
Author's Note: That short surreal thing was for the 900th review of October by Tetractys who asked for a fic where we get a glimpse of where Tom was during his whacky space time travel adventure. It's a short glimpse but then what more is there to say? At any rate thanks for reading and reviews are greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.