"Mercury."

As always, the world was blue.

Bubbles rushed past his face, rising from the open mouth he had no energy left as though taking what little life he had left and tossing it into the endless abyss above him. Where they went, he could not follow.

Once past the point where light no longer reached – the beginning of the endless darkness – there was no return.

And yet, for some reason, he didn't feel like there was any reason to return at all.

"Please."

Some measure of time passed as he drifted like that. It could have been hours, days – it could have even been decades, and he'd have been none the wiser; each passing moment was both infinitely long and infinitesimally short, as though he'd been sucked into a black hole and his entire being was being pulled apart.

He probably should have hated it, but he didn't. This cool, quiet numbness was actually quite nice once he got used to it. There was no pain, no fear, no worry, just a blissful numbness that had overtaken his body a long time ago.

It was nice.

It was probably better than whatever he had been experiencing before this, though…

He couldn't quite remember what exactly was "before," either.

"You can't forget."

Forget… what? Who was speaking to him?

In fact, who even was "him"?

Was there anything inside his mind, or was he as empty as the waters around him?

"If you forget, I can't help you."

The voice was calm. Smooth. Emotionless. Even with his head foggy, he was sure he'd heard it before – many times, even. Probably more than he'd ever heard in his life.

It was a voice that struck fear into his heart.

But at the same time, it wasn't that voice.

What he remembered about it was passion. He recalled the zeal in which this voice used to speak with him, the fervor as it asked more than he could ever hope to give and the intensity as it demanded he did so anyway; he could feel the way his body started to tremble despite being almost entirely unable to move, and he could feel something in his chest shudder when the waters hummed with the sound.

A paradox began to form in his mind, and for more than a moment, it was all that was there. The love he was used to – toxic and compressing – didn't match what he was hearing now: a detached voice that seemed to speak only because it was necessary.

He got the feeling he hated this voice, yet he focused on it anyway, attempting to put his entire attention onto it and only it – not how increasingly hard it was becoming to breathe, nor the harsh, jagged blackness that rimmed his vision, but the slow cadence as it conducted his body like an orchestra.

And it only asked for one single, small thing – for him to not forget.

This voice was far less demanding than he thought it used to be.

"Do you still remember?"

No, he didn't, but it was there somewhere. His head was not as empty as it had originally seemed. As he concentrated on listening to what was around him, small bits and pieces began to condense, slotting into his mind like puzzle pieces.

Something in his stomach hurt.

Something in his chest throbbed.

Something in the back of his mind wept.

There was something he was forgetting – something important. So important that he'd stake his life on it.

He was close to the answer. He couldn't give up yet – and that's what this was all about, right?

Not giving up. Not giving in. Not letting something be taken from him anymore.

His will trembled.

"Keep going. You're close."

Remembering hurt, but some part of him thought that forgetting would be far more painful, so he kept going, kept pushing, kept thinking until –

He recalled.

He suddenly felt so full that he thought his brain might burst, and it was probably the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life. Nothing about the process was gradual. Everything hit him all at once, flooding his mind like molten magma. Everything he'd ever experienced overlapped to become one overwhelming memory in his head – all the pain, all the love, all the feelings he'd ever felt in his entire life washed over his body.

It was everything he'd almost forgotten – everything he would have lost. Even if it felt like he was going to throw up from the intensity of it all, these were still the things he treasured even more than his life itself.

But remembering didn't suddenly make him feel any better. In fact, it made him feel worse; there had been no energy in his body beforehand, but afterwards, it was as though even the energy used to keep himself in one piece was gone, too.

"Rest well," that voice instructed him one last time. "You've earned it."

Did he?

It didn't matter – whether he wanted to or not, he was going to fade away once more. This time, all he was certain of was that he was going to wake up again. He was going to live, and he was going to live as himself.

Even if that meant listening to the voice he hated more than life itself for just one more minute.

And so, without thinking about the consequences that would soon follow, Mercury let himself sink further into the ocean's embrace.