[ The trouble with being mostly mortal in the presence of the physical manifestation of The End is that your soul knows your body's not supposed to be here. It knows the both of you aren't supposed to be in this state. You can exist in it's plane, you can slink through the empty cities and glide above the void; but eventually, it knows you will lose your footing and fall into the purple static below. Even that doesn't unravel your neurons the way having the void itself share a space with you does. ]
[ It's wild, feeling your soul begin to fray. You don't notice, at first. By the time you do, it's too late. He thinks this has happened before. ]
[ He was hardly conscious of much beyond the grit of the gilding inside of his mouth, between understimulation and the whole rending of his very soul... thing. ]
[ When he's next more aware, a gentle hand is placed over his eyes. The End recedes. The unweaving of him stops. ]
[ He spawns in his bed, in his home in the wall. ]
>Ph1LzA has made the advancement [ The End. ]