'Beth'.
That was the only reason he got up and kept going.
Finding his sister was all the determination he needed to persevere.
The memories flashed before his eyes.
Memories of their good and bad times.
He recalled how Beth would stay up through the night after working many jobs on the same day to take care of him when he was sick.
He remembered how Beth never liked his pancakes because he never got good at making them but still ate them with a smile to appease him.
Damon chuckled as he recalled their shared dreams of leaving New Carley City.
He remembered it all.
Then, the face of his elder brother smiling flashed before his eyes.
Tears gathered in his eyes as he saw Nathan smiling in front of him.
That was his last smile.
He remembered Nate's last wish before he was murdered in cold blood.
"Go, Damon! Find Beth too and save her!" he had said to him.
Those were Nate's last words, forever engraved in Damon's heart.
His eyes watered and tears dropped from them like rain.
He wept over and over again.
His fear had gotten the best of him in this lonely realm.
His mind was plagued and riddled with saddening thoughts that he rather not remember at the moment.
It was becoming too suffocating to bear.
The climb was endless and torturous.
How could anyone finish the First Stairway?
Damon was breaking apart.
His body was wounded.
His spirit was shattered.
And his mind… his mind was broken.
He raised his head and let out a loud cry of anguish that echoed through the entire white world.
"Let me out of here!"
"Please, let me out!"
He begged but no one responded to his desperate pleas.
Who would?
There was no one else in the First Stairway but him.
Only he could hear his plea.
He was alone and the Stairways were not like the floors of the Crimson Spire. They weren't governed by any guardians.
The Stairways were just the connections between floors.
No one reigned over them and no one controlled what happened there.
They simply were and will continue to be.
.
.
.
When was he ever going to see the sun again?
Damon missed the sunlight and the wind that brushed over his face every day.
He wished to breathe fresh air again, even if it was for just a second.
He missed the world he used to know.
Sadly, none of his wishes could be granted... not now anyways.
He still had to reach the far-fetched door between the grey clouds before he could dream of seeing the sun again or feeling the caress of the wind.
His tormented mind was his only companion.
A minute ago, he was brimming with profound determination and motivation; the next minute, he was drowning in depression and despair.
Damon was not going to be the same man that walked into the First Stairway whenever he stepped out of it.
He turned his head to the sides, having noticed something.
"They just moved," he said. "It looked like the world moved. It swirled around."
"Are my eyes deceiving me?"
He rubbed his eyes and looked around again but nothing happened.
The white realm was still as it had been since he entered.
'I must have been hallucinating.'
The world remained indifferent towards the player, leaving him to the tedium his endless climb offered generously.
Damon began to mumble inaudibly to himself like a man insane.
"Why?" he finally spoke out loud.
"Why am I still stuck here? Why can't I be free!"
"Why!" he shouted, his voice reverberating within the confines of the silent dimension.
Damon continued to lament as though the void of whiteness heard him.
It did not hear him and neither did it reply.
The stairs did not reply either.
Good fortune had turned its back on him and he was forced to face his demons alone this time.
The void was apathetic to his lamentations and desperation, offering neither comfort nor judgement.
.
.
.
"Ahh!"
Damon shrieked and fell, hitting his knees against the edge of a step.
His legs were weak and cramping from severe exhaustion.
His climb was slow and bound to get even slower now that he had injured his knees.
Tough luck.
However pathetic his condition had turned, Damon did not offer himself such pity.
He wiped the tears from his eyes and continued to clamber while refusing to back down.
He tried to be judicious in this situation, but dejection was turning to rage inside him.