Musings Thirty-Eight
Imperfect Illumine: Drifting out of the Nightmare
"Shadow…"
The thorns sting. They're alive, as if thirsting for blood. Warmth. Maybe empathy?
"You do know this pain, don't you, Shadow?"
Mephiles and I drift through a night without clouds. Stars, nebulae, and comets stream. However, a massive sigil burns in my line of sight. Mephiles has lost himself—inhuman eyes, hands, body, and voice.
"You're doomed to feel this pain, Shadow. 'Tis a life worse than mine…!"
His words petrify me. I can't look away. My heart pounds with uncertainty. The thorns pull me in closer…
The sigil welcomes me. But Mephiles…?
"So, please…defeat us, Shadow. Save Spira."
