Experimental not-prologue for "Under Ten-Thousand Suns." I'm not writing the book here either; I ran into a bit of a $#*! up with my writing schedule after switching projects and figured, hey, why not re-write something?
And no, it's not supposed to make sense when first read.
She rose into the sky, a great titan of light. From the tower she extended her wings, blue halo of luminescence stretching through the atmosphere. The sky’s a leaden grey, sands below having lost their color. Abstract neon shapes, like birds, spread about in erratic, agitated patterns. He’s sitting on the sands before a great ocean, watching her from the shoreline.
That irritating repetition of sound filled his ears, that raucous grinding, rushing as the waves crashed against the shore, eating away at the pasty white sands, the formless rocks, beating up against his bare legs. Hurricane winds blew up great waves that came rushing towards him, faltering at the last moment, falling away as the titan's colossal wings broke through the sky.
The world was losing its color. He felt it like a vibration, some crawling, awful sensation that burned under his skin. But he couldn’t fight it, it wasn’t fear, nor some dreadful longing for the old world as the current one died away in front of him. It made the man feel lonely, even as the sky began to fracture like glass, the titan of light spreading her arms wide, taking the ever expanding void of warped space into a tight embrace that sent tremors through the Earth, world fading away into some odd feeling murky nothingness.
He’s alone now, standing at the crest of that endless shoreline, stretching his arm outwards. It’s losing its shape, his body along with it, folding into droplets of formless matter, drifting towards the black sky she’d left in her wake. She emerged from the water, wreathed in gold and alabaster, pointing, saying nothing before the orb, some great black mass, fell from the sky, appearing above the motionless sea.
THIS IS NOT THE END
YOU’LL REACH NIRVANA SOMEDAY
He found himself fading away with the Universe. He felt it in his bones, the light that sustained creation slowly dying as the black mass sat there. It vibrated, and over its glassy obsidian skin, eyes began to open, flooding that void with a strange crimson light.
He heard her voice again.
BE GOOD TO YOURSELF
YOU’LL SEE HER AGAIN, DON’T WORRY
And with that, the final light of the world fades away. Until the next cycle, Noa Hazard.