Chapter One
What remained of Kozmotis Pitchiner, a creature known and feared as Pitch Black, felt a ripple of terror from the far reaches of the galaxy. Such delectable terror it was too; the most primal of fears - that of death - that of ending - radiated from countless undeveloped minds in a sea of genocidal panic. He could feel those emotions deep within the shattered remains of his mind - as sure and unstoppable as the tide, awakening in him hunger and the endless need to devour.
As much as he reveled in the agony and torment of the living - the closest to pleasure he was capable of feeling, he felt himself hesitate. This fear - so vital, so existential - was not of his making and he was powerful enough to extinguish the very stars and was credited with the fall of the Golden Age. A force capable of such thoughtless devastation - of extinction - merited careful investigation. It would ally with him willingly or he would consume it. Either outcome was pleasing.
Finding the very prospect delightful, Pitch set out immediately leaving a trail of ruin in his wake.
All Jack remembered of the accident was darkness.
After the crash, he slept for ages. As he slept, he dreamed.
His dreams were feverish, slipping away from his grasping mind as soon as he tried to focus on them. Mostly they were physical, tactile sensations rather than images or emotions.
He dreamed of the earth, solid and heavy, under and around him in a way that was both reassuring and claustrophobic in his confusion. There was the itchy feeling of hot and cold as the sun rose and fell in the sky, blurring into an endless stream of sensation as more time passed. He could feel the planet moving - somewhat nauseating, as it turned around its star in space, shifting its continents irregularly.
Most of all, Jack could feel the breath of wind on his skin, pale and exposed for the first time in living memory. It's cool familiarity soothed his pain and he found himself wondering as he lay there injured and comatose. When he woke up - if he ever woke up - would that wind carry him? Would he fly again through the air as he used to fly through space?
His dreams offered no answers, only more questions.