Ruin

  *

  Cold. Raw, gnawing agony.

  Alexander Cain was surrounded by darkness. He was suffocating on a vast, viscous something that filled his mouth, throat and lungs. Whether he was spinning and falling, or whether the world was spinning and falling around him, he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that something was moving at breakneck speed, tearing at his body amidst an endless void.

  Here, there was no time. Forever was now, now was forever, and nothing new could ever be. He would remain here until the infinite had grown small, and everything had faded completely.

  And yet, eventually, something emerged from the ether, something that seemed to consume all else: a light. The faintest, most distant light. It was above. There was no direction here, and yet Alex was certain that the light was higher—was up.

  He thrashed and fought his way towards it. The void shrank back and his body pressed against a great barrier, one that stretched and ripped at him with vicious talons. He was being pierced by icy tendrils. The void was pulling him back, desperate to hold onto him.

  For the briefest of moments it was over—he didn’t exist at all—and then he broke into the world beyond.