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."