Pash
In a world of black, Pash found himself. He did not know how long he had been there, nor even how he had appeared. His mind felt groggy. It took a great effort to even recall his own name.
There was a dim light let off by his own body, allowing him to see his hands and his feet, but that light did not leave him. It did nothing to push back the oppressive darkness, it merely clung to him, as though afraid.
Pash couldn't feel anything beneath his feet. It felt like he was standing on air, only, he wasn't falling.
Pash attempted to move, feeling a fear swell up inside him. "Am I dead?" He asked himself in dread. He didn't want to be dead. Not yet. Not when he was so far from achieving his goal. The thought terrified him. To have struggled for so long only to die before he could achieve it… that was far too cruel.
