A sharp pain bring you back to consciousness, and you notice that you are far from of you remember dropping for a nap. There is blood, but not enough to be worrisome, just a headache. Idly on the ground, you start to nip grass, or whatever that vegetation is.

Soon enough, you realize the mistakes of your way.

The sensation brings you back to when you accidentally drank Zaun's water at the sewers. To call it water would make it no justice to whatever that… liquid is supposed to be. You remember very vividly that it made you throw up for days stuff like food, ooze, and blood. Among other unpleasant things, you nearly gave birth to another Zac yourself.

But this greenery is on a different level.

At the beginning, you taste the air, hear the temperature, see smells and you aren't making any freaking sense, as colours change to impossible palettes on a whim and the forms and the temperature and you don't even know anymore where your limbs are supposed to be, even though you were pretty sure you haven't moved an inch since this begun.

At least isn't another nightmare. You have a gut feeling that this relief surely won't last long.

You roll and go all on fours to who knows where, but the world dances and distances changes and you stumble and jump (you are not sure how) and you laugh excited while you fall and tumble and even your weapon decides to compliment to you.

Wait.

It talked. With an unmistakable childish voice, oddly familiar to you, however, it's not like you can recall where you heard it before. Not on your state. No, not that fluffy ball of doom and poison and goddamnit explosive shaped mushrooms…

"I SWEAR YOU WILL SUFFER A GRUESOME DEATH"

You weapon disagrees, and tell you are mistaken. The voice changes to a tone deafening high pinch that makes you want to pierce your eardrums out for good measure and you try to run away from it, but you are torn. It's your beloved weapon, you can't do it, you don't have the heart to leave it, why oh cruel world, why?

And you fly. This doesn't stop you and you use your cleaver or whatever you call it when you are in possession of your mental faculties to crawl and swim through the air. Soon enough, a cold sensation settles over your stomach and you crash on a soft sharp fluffy whatheheckisthishit?! You can't feel your legs anymore. You exhale pain and take a sharp intake of air, only to cough and you turn around or maybe the world is again moving on its own volition. You aren't able to keep your head still but something clearly lands on you. And it tastes terrible.

You faint.

Awakening doesn't bring any clarifications as the world still is a raging madness. But, you see something hovering upon you, maybe a fly. You try to bite it, but it nimbly dodges and laughs at your misfortune.

Great, another talkative incoherence.

You sigh, and it starts to go on about how you look terrible. You answer it with a tired grumble and mumbles about how you weren't able to rest lately. It decides to change the topic about how the weather looks incredible today, even though it looks like it's raining acid and you don't feel wet, or anything at all. Your tongue hangs out your mouth as you taste the air.

Finally, something feels good. And it taste purple.

You think it out loud and a joyful giggle reaches your ears. She says – she? Well, somebody suggests a nap is welcome now. You obey without a second though.

Latter, world seem to have settled with ordinary looks and your neck is twisted in an unpleasant way. And you have some broken bones. Okay, several broken bones. Somehow, you made it out of the mountains, with a pretty daredevil fall. It explains a lot, and you struggle to let your body in a less painful position without success. As your option range from lay down and nothing to do, you enjoy the boredom. Now that you think about it, your high had a presence looming around you in the end.

And it finally hits you.

You feel lonely.