Not much to say from my part. This was a fic written for 008's birthday. My writer's block still lingered at the time, so I'm afraid that I really didn't do him justice. Neh...
Dreams were weaves of the subconscious mind… But what were the elements of nightmares? Were they also weavings, but of a grimmer spectrum? Or were they reflections of one's darkest memories and contemplations?
Narrowed eyes scanned the darkness, only in vain as there were no other signs to identify where their owner stood. Save for the patterned flooring of squares. Ivory and ebony made up the squares, while one light shone off them.
The aquatic expert looked down, noticing the white square he stood on.
A quick pause followed.
It wasn't the tiling he stared at for a good two minutes. What really caught his eye however, was his reflection in the tiling.
Red contrasted with white as gold did black.
His right hand tightened into a fist, only to finally realize the cold feel of metal. The gleam of the blaster was right there, humming its electronic charge.
…He hadn't recalled removing it from his holster.
Blinking a bit, he noticed several red shards that littered the ground several squares ahead. Pyunma walked forward square by square, until he could finally see where the red shards came from. A black helmet rested on the ground, damaged red goggles attached to the front.
Just beyond the helmet, laid an African man wearing what appeared to be a black jumpsuit…
The remembrances of the dream faded away as he pulled himself out of his thoughts. He sat in his usual chair at the bridge of the Dolphin, watching the dark seas flow in their natural rhythms. Night time, as he already knew, was a much better time to think.
It had only been days ago since Black Ghost had been defeated- Joe would definitely have rest as his newest priority for the moment- but they all were cautious because of the fact that the Black Ghost, whether the organization or the leader, may still be alive somewhere.
But whether or not they had done what they had set out to do, he knew, it wouldn't bring back the lives of those who had died in the process of Black Ghost's intentions. They all knew that.
He hoped that his friend could finally see the truth after what Black Ghost had done to him.
But one thought had lingered in his mind when they took off from his homeland, before he brushed it aside to pilot the Dolphin. What was worse: taking your friend's life physically or mentally?
No one else in the ship really experienced the question like he had, but the answer still slipped though his grasp.