Hopping through dream bubbles had become one of John's favorite pastimes. There was just no telling what you would find, a dark, spooky land, or a bright, happy kingdom! Every one was a little different, and he loved discovering them.
But this one, this was way, WAY too different.
It looked like some kind of ancient green mansion, but it had obviously seen better days. Holes and cracks covered the walls, showing patches of infinite, starry space. Cobwebs and dust coated every surface, and every step John took created a small cloud.
Eventually, after a bit of wondering, he found a door that was still on its hinges and, finding it unlocked, opened it.
He was greeted by a soft voice that seemed to echo and reverberate, "Doesn't anyone knock anymore?"
The Heir of Breath looked around, but couldn't see anyone. The room was obviously the study or library, with a large arm chair by the fire, bookshelves lining the walls and a writing desk in the corner. On top of the writing desk was a typewriter. "Hello?" Called John. "Is someone there?"
Something shifted in the armchair, and John realized that a dark figure had actually been sitting in it, hidden by the poor light of the room. As he moved slightly, John began to see him a bit better.
He was about as big as an adult human, but had an abnormally large, perfectly rounded black head. Instead of a face, he had a white circle containing an infinity symbol, making his entire head resemble an eight ball on its side. He was dressed in a pitch black formal suit with a white shirt and black tie underneath. As he moved, dust rose up from him and a black-gloved hand reached for a silver and black cane leaning against the chair. "I am here. Forgive the state of my abode; I have not had visitors in a long, long time." His voice gave off a feeling of authority and strength, the reverberations in it making him sound almost celestial, but at the same time, it sounded tired, worn out and raspy, like an old king . He paused for a second, as if catching his breath, "Oh, but where are my manners, I am hardly being a gentleman. You may call me Mr. Black, I believe that's what they called me."
"Oh," said John, a bit confused. "Well, I'm John Eggbert, pleased to meet you."
"Eggbert…." Said the figure slowly, "Eggbert… That name is not familiar to me. *sigh* my power is slipping. I used to be a god, a GOD, now look at me."
"Oh, well, what happened to you?" John was a bit curious now. "Are you from a doomed timeline or something?"
"Yes, something like that. It's a long story."
"I like stories!"
"Are you sure? This is not your average tale of adventure and romance."
"Yeah!"
"Heh, well, this is quite a story. But it's quite sad."
"Oh. Well, if you don't want to tell it, that's fine…."
"No, I'll tell it. Sit down my boy, and I'll begin. Now, where to start? Perhaps the moment it all went wrong. It seems so long ago now, so long, long ago…."
John sat down on the floor and watched as the figure began to tell his tale.