He feared he would walk straight into a wall in any moment. It had been a long time, or so it felt, since he had been wandering in that pitch black bubble. There might be a door somewhere, maybe he was in a cage, or maybe he was walking straight into a black hole, who knew. Everything was so dark he was not sure where he was walking to. No one else was there thought, he was sure of that. Not a single troll, dead or alive, had crossed his path. Embracing the nothingness he allowed his mind to space out while he walked and stared at the floor. If there was any floor at all.

His thinking pan went bat shit crazy. All of a sudden the images from his failed session appeared before his eyes and overwhelmed his head. The stupid decisions everyone took during that week weighted over his head and asked "If only you had…" After all, he was the bloody leader of that foolish team.

"I wish I had never played that game. It was all so much fucking better before."

Bullshit.

That stupid game was the best thing that could've happened to him. Back in Alternia he had no future. The only choices he had as a jade blood were to take care of the mother grub or become a highblood's slave. Eventually he would be culled either by fighting to death or because of his uncontrollable mouth. If he had stayed he wouldn't have met any of his friends, if he had stayed his life would be miserable, if he had stayed he wouldn't have met her, Ophira, his matesprit. There was nothing that would make him wish to go back. Absolutely nothing could make him regret that decision…Well…maybe…

"Amia…"

A sudden low humming flowed caught his attention. He lifted his head and found himself in a completely different place. Instead of being surrounded by the void, he was now standing in a fancy and well furnished hallway. A soft and colorful violet carpet covered the floor and an exquisite looking wallpaper with flowery designs and golden curves covered the walls. The humming, which was now slightly louder, filled the hallway in such a way that it was almost impossible to tell where it was coming from.

It sounded familiar. The tune was nothing special though. It was some Alternian rubbish song that he hated. The voice. The voice was what caught his ear.

"Who is it?"

The humming didn't stop. He walked straight ahead as if doing so would get him closer to the source but the volume stayed the same and the hallway seemed to stretch as he walked.

"Who is it? Who is it? Who is it? GOG DAMN IT WHO IS IT!?"

A sudden rush of adrenaline pushed him to run. It was her. It was definitively her! That was her voice and only she would hum that hideous highblood-pride song. She was somewhere in that place. He ran hoping to know where it was coming from. His heart beat increased, his legs burned, and he was running out of air but the low and now vanishing humming seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. There was no way to tell if it was further away or right in front of him. The hallway was endless and he ran for what seemed to be an eternity. Finally, his legs gave in and he fell to the ground with both hands extended.

"Hahaha! How fucking funny Amia! I know you must be having a blast!" He screamed while trying to catch his breath and got hold of the wall to stand back up with his burning legs. Taking a glance around him he realized his little race had taken him nowhere. The walls and the carpet were exactly the same. He hadn't moved at all from his place. Not even an inch.

"I'm just enjoying myself"

There! He turned around frenetically trying to figure it out.

"Left!"

There was a door. A huge and wide open door. How come he didn't see it before? He smashed his head against the wall before going through it.

"Well you've got your exercise dose of the day."

The air wasn't still quite back in his lungs but he managed to let out a small growl. She was sitting in a corner, holding something that seemed to be a palette and a brush. He dropped on the floor right next to her and tried to recover from that eternal and painful run.

"You are cruel." He mumbled.

"The door was in plain sight. You should look around more often."

Looking up again he got a better look at that stupidly obvious room. Unlike the outer hallway, this one seemed simpler. There was no fancy wallpaper or nice looking carpet. The floor was pitch black and the walls were white. Well, only one wall. The other three were completely painted. The pictures were detailed and delicate, the images just as exquisite as the wallpaper outside but, unlike the golden random patterns in the hallway, those three painted walls told a story. As he examined each one a story seemed to unfold before his eyes but he didn't really know what was going on.

"Don't you recognize anything?"

He turned his head and faced her. It wasn't what he expected. She looked at least five times older than him. Her face still looked young for someone of her blood, but her slim and tall body gave her away. The white color in her eyes didn't diminish her intimidating glare which was enhanced by her gigantic and curly horns. Her black gown, covered with purple details, was slightly stained with other colors.

"Stop it staring at me as if you didn't know me."

He snapped and looked around once again.

"Sorry…Amia…"

Mumbling. She stared at him with an annoyed look. To hear him mumble annoyed her more than hear him screaming.

"You don't recognize it, do you?" She stopped as if to let him answer, but he didn't. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

"I was…expecting someone else."

"I've heard that too many times already"

"Yea – Wait what?"

"I've received more Morgens, more kids like you. They all end up just as disappointed as you." She held her brush firmly and continued painting. "Though… you are the first who is not dead." She continued.

He lifted his head and looked at her before turning again at the three painted walls.

"No…I don't recognize the images. What are they supposed to be?"

A tiny smile appeared on her face. "It's our story" her arm extended over his head and her boney fingers pointed at the wall to their left. From the corner he could see a finely painted forest landscape. Two trolls, one purple blooded and the other jade blooded, fought over a lusus. The green one defending, the purple one attacking.

"That's how we met, remember."

"Yes. You…you were a pain!" Amia had attacked his lusus that time. They had hatched just a few weeks before that and she was already trying to cull someone's lusus. She smiled again.

"But…" He looked around and tried to figure out the story again but the events had no significance, no relation to his life. "I don't…know. I don't remember anything else"

"That's because it's a different timeline."

He turned around and squinted. He knew there were alternate doomed timelines, but it was the first time he ever encountered someone so…old.

"It's different" she continued "because we never played Sgrub."

A shiver went down his spine.

"How? – What?"

"In my timeline there was no apocalypse. Therefore we never needed to play it to save ourselves."

"WAIT WAIT WAIT! How do you even know of Sgrub if you have never played it!?"

"Is that what really concerns you?" she stood up and left the fourth wall unfinished. "I've heard it all from your other dead selves. They all grumble about a bunch of "what if's" asking themselves if it was worth it, if the game really did something good, if there was any other way around it, or if they should've left their moirails behind. Now you, the only Morgen that survived, ask me how I even know about the game."

"I do want to know…" he rubbed his arm and stood up. His feet dragged him right beside her in the corner of the wall, where the story began. "but I…I don't know if I will like the whole story."

"You won't know until you hear it."

"Alright."