Alex is entombed in the ruins of Mt. Aleph.

In the beating heart of the earth.

Utterly alone.

He is not alive...but not quite dead.

His body lies curled on the warm igneous rock.

The warmth slithers around him.

"It is warm where I am..."

His chain-laden spirit rises from his corpse.

He throws his hair back as he looks around him.

It is a fallen sanctuary.

The glory of the sun snuffed out.

His eyes catch sight of a partially collapsed passageway near him.

He begins to walk.

"Almost hot, but not quite. It has not crossed the threshold that separates warm from hot. It remains in the limbo of extremes."

And as he walks, he remembers.

He sees the swish of dark brown as Excalibur rings out in the worn designs of a fallen ceiling fresco.

He hears the boyish shout of a chance hero in the wind that hisses through the cracks of stone.

He smells the fragrance of wilted jasmine in the volcanic fumes wafting around him.

He feels the burning wrath of a copper glare in the hot darkness.

He tastes the sweetness of soft yet icy lips in the dust on his mouth.

His chains continually trail behind him.

Creaking.

Screeching.

"I, who was once in the cold, am the warmth. The stifling, suffocating warmth, the one where you can take a breath and still you choke because you feel no difference in breathing in and out and you clutch at your throat willing yourself to do what you are already doing...and you drop to the ground, exhausted. And for what? It is happening. It has already happened. It will continue to happen."

He suddenly comes upon a landmark.

A wall of glassy obsidian.

...he approaches.

And he looks.

A ghost of a person stares back at him from out of blank aqua eyes.

Fingertips touch fingertips.

"Listen: I am the breath that you exhale. I am the stale humidity of death come to chase away the crispness of life until it is time for the circle to turn again."

He heaves a sigh.

His hair falls over his shoulders.

His hand slides wetly off the shiny surface.

He turns...

And he leaves himself behind.

"The cold and the warm eternally consume each other, but they are never completely gone. It is all a circle, a cycle, and so there is no beginning and no end to it."

The young man walks again.

Grim.

Resigned.

Chained.

Jagged shards of granite and marble stab at his soles.

But he barely feels the pain.

"Life and death are not either ends or beginnings. They are both and neither at the same time. For in a circle, you must choose your own starting point. And that makes all the difference."

He passes through the curtains of darkness.

He can barely see where he is going.

His only guide is the ever-shifting threads of light at the end of the path...

"I know where I stand in the circle. I have always known. And I will keep that place...for as long as eternity..."

The young man stands on the rubble of a once-majestic peak.

Still coated in eternal, primordial slime.

He gazes at the crimson void around him.

The heat hisses into his body.

He shudders.

There is a flap of wings, and he looks up.

A raven circles overhead, casting its black shadow of death.

It lands on the ground beneath him.

And it waits.

The young man nods.

He gathers his chains and descends the blistering granite.

But this time, he keeps his balance.

He has learned to walk beneath a weight.

His feet touch the dusty earth.

The raven takes off again, cawing.

He struggles forward.

The chains dig into the ground.

He yanks them out and continues on.

He follows the raven through the ruins of New Vale.

He gives the broken fountain a reverent glance.

And then he moves on.

Beyond into the wasteland.

The desert.

He stops.

The raven hovers some distance away from him.

He takes a deep breath...

And steps out onto the smouldering sands.

It will be a long journey to a nonexistent end.

"This is me forever
One of the lost ones
The one without a name
Without an honest heart as compass

This is me forever
One without a name
These lines the last endeavor
To find the missing lifeline

Oh how I wish
For soothing rain
All I wish is to dream again
My loving heart
Lost in the dark
For hope I'd give my everything..."

-"Nemo," Nightwish

"Give unto me your troubles
I'll endure your suffering
Place unto me your burden
I'll drink your deadly poison..."

-"Give Unto Me," Evanescence

O-O-O

Author's notes: Inspired by (read: respectfully but blatantly ripped from) "the six deaths of Terra" by the almighty Post, who has given his gracious permission to me to post this. Poor guy...I've stolen so many things from him and never given them back. i r so bad. If you're a Teen Titans fan, by all means read his original, because it pwnz j00.

Disclaimer: Golden Sun does not belong to me. All instances of OOCness in here, however, definitely do. Like they'd actually belong to anyone else.

Special thanks to: Kali, strep throat, the original soundtrack for Noir, and Post, Post, Post.

Review if you will, flame if you must. Is it getting hot in here?

-Sora G. Silverwind
no more pain, no memories remain, now you can play with me