Corrin couldn't see. His eyes were pained horribly. He felt his body turning inside out in agony. Something pounded at his mind. Voices, an icy cold finger. He was afraid. He was rolling about across the floor. He heard muffled words from his frightened comrades.

A blurred voice blasted into Corrin's mind. He could not discern its words, but they sounded agitated. His head was screaming. "I will not give in…" He muttered quietly. His mind exploded in terrible pain. "I will not." He screamed.

"Corrin, don't let it take you." Someone yelled from above him. It was Grange. He remembered Johnson. He rolled over.

"I. Will. Not!" All went black.

"You do not have too." Someone said from out of the darkness. Suddenly, a room became illuminated in his eyes. Someone stood before him, clothed in black robes, his face concealed. "You never had to Corrin. You are too strong."

Corrin recognized the voice, but it was different somehow; cracked and dry. "Who are you?" Corrin asked suspiciously. There was no answer. "I will not converse with one who conceals his identity!"

"Corrin, can't you tell!" The man laughed as he removed his hood. Corrin gasped. "It's me!" Johnson stood before him, not a shell, not a Soulless, but Johnson. His skin was clean. The air smelled fresh. "Where are we?" Johnson said questioningly. Corrin nodded. "That's what I would have asked." Johnson said happily.

Corrin urged him on with a look. "We are in the right place at the right time!" Johnson said lightly. Corrin looked at him oddly. Johnson shook his head. "No more, no less. Now, let me see, why are you here?" Corrin was astounded by the man's hidden intuition. He had always just been a loyal, strong, though vulgar, friend.

"Yeah, of course. And, how the hell are you here?" Corrin felt he could no longer hold in his emotion. He had taken on a different personality since Johnson had gone. It was time to go back, to relax.

"This, Corrin, is the keep of the Soulless." Johnson roared, spreading his arms wide. "This is my curse, and my home until that bastard is dead." Corrin knew he was speaking about Riktus. "Think of it as Riktus' world in his mind, where he gets to watch us play…" Johnson smiled. "But you, Corrin, you are different. This is not your home."

He motioned for Corrin to follow him. They walked softly through golden marble hallways. Corrin looked around in awe. It was magnificent. Arches of beautiful structure covered the roofing. The walkways were embroidered with gold bolts of thunder. "Impressed?" Johnson said with a chuckle. "Remember, this is Riktus' mind. This is his dream and we must never let him have it."

"Of course," Corrin replied

"Now, onto business." Johnson sighed. "I have not seen my body in weeks. We are cursed to eternal scuttling from room to room in this great mansion." He stopped and faced Corrin. "You, as I said, are different. Corrin, you are the Immune."

Corrin stared at him, befuddled. "In all his glory, the Emperor made a mistake." There was a crack. Johnson looked up, terrified. "Corrin, I…you have little time!" He continued to walk. "Look, the Dev…the Treacherous Soul Virus was engineered as a super-weapon by the Emperor. He though it would be an all destroyer. He thought it would be unstoppable. No one would resist."

Johnson breathed in as they walked through a doorway. "He was wrong. The virus divided. There were three strains: one with the Emperor, one running rampant across the world, and one…to be hidden."

Johnson walked out to the platform ahead and stared Corrin joined him. Millions of people stood below, moving and interacting. "The other ones like me." Johnson said in the side. "Anyway, there were some, they did not know how, who were Immune. They say they were chosen. Some say it was because of the splitting of the virus, others…It doesn't matter. Corrin, you are Immune." Corrin looked at him strangely.

"I am Immune to the Virus?" Corrin looked up, amazed. He was Immune. But what did that mean? What was Corrin, some kind of hero? He was no hero. Johnson smiled.

"Yes, Corrin, and you are our only chance." There was a screech. "They are coming!" Johnson bellowed. The people below halted. "Corrin, go, now. Leave this place. You can, just go!"

Corrin imagined himself gone. The world blurred. Robbed warriors emerged from all sides. "Johnson, don't die!" He roared sadly. Johnson grinned as Corrin began to disappear.

"Have I ever? Nah, and today's not a good day!" He said, raising his fists to the warriors. Corrin soared away. Stars flew past his head and into his eyes. It was black again. He would not give up. He would find his friend. He would kill Riktus. He would avenge his family. He would do it for Merica, for he was a Merican soldier.