Fever Dream

Humanity and their mania for analysis and growth and something more that was not meant to be theirs, they dug their hands into their flesh and repaired broken kidneys and failing hearts with mere spite. They carved themselves into stone, painted faces into canvases meant to hold their image for years to come. They strapped themselves to self-destructive rockets and blasted themselves beyond their planet's atmosphere. They yearn to be remembered, to become immortal, in a way.

But identity, here's the struggle they must truly face. Under everything superficial, even their own flesh, when they are faced with their own broken reflection, will they be able to answer the question that has been left to linger for centuries— who are you?

...

He had woken up in this darkness some time ago, disoriented and confused. He was unsure of where he was or even who he was when he finally retained a faint amount of lucidity. The air was cold and the ground was moist, uncomfortable was a fitting word, and he laid there in the middle of it all like a rotting corpse.

His name.. he couldn't remember it at all no matter how much he wracked his head. He had vague ideas of who he was, but they felt like pieces of different puzzles forcefully glued together. It felt strange, to say the least, to know nothing and everything about himself all at once.

".. I should try to get out of here first.." He whispered to himself, voice hoarse and dry as he raised himself up, putting a fair amount of strength in his legs.

There was no amount of light around him, not even a trace of it, everything was simply black. It was as if everything was in a state of non-existence. For a moment, he wondered if he was in the stomach of a gigantic monster, he huffed a small laugh at that thought.

He was wary of his own calmness at the situation at hand, confused at the simple lack of panic. After all, he knew this was not where he belonged. He.. belonged to a place where there existed buildings that challenged the heavens in their stature, where humans travelled the world in vehicles that flew, and men explored space with a burning fervor. He lived amongst them, this abyss-like darkness was not where he was meant to be.

But still, he couldn't stop but feel a sort of calm here, a different and strange type of tranquility. It wasn't the warmth and comfort brought by home, or the peace that a library possesed. It was more like.. a certain type of indifference, an apathy to everything.

"Should I start crawling?" He asked the empty air around him, and the words echoed around him, reverberating eerily. He wasn't sure if walking would be a good idea, he didn't want to suddenly fall off a ditch after all. After a moment of thought, he nodded resolutely, it wasn't like he had a better idea.

"It's not like anyone will see me.." He mumbled, going on his knees as his hands made contact with the moist ground. "And if someone does, so be it, at least I'll be able to see." The feeling of crawling around and feeling the ground around him was strange, to say the least, he felt like a rat sneaking around.

He crawled, stopped for awhile, then continued to crawl again. It was like that for awhile and the thought that this would be what he was going to do until he passed away made him sigh.

But then, shortly after one of his rest stops, he saw a small amount of light. It was relatively far from where he was, it even looked like it was flickering, and it was so miniscule that he reckoned he wouldn't be able to see it if it wasn't absolutely dark. He immediately froze at the sight, narrowing his eyes slightly before he started crawling faster, till he gradually gave up and rose to his full height, sprinting towards it at full speed.

And yes, he knew that was extremely reckless but he had grown desperate, he wasn't a fan of this whole ordeal.

When he finally arrived near the source of the light, he skidded to a stop and looked down at the object, observing what it was before tilting his head curiously. "A mirror?" He murmured, it was shaped in a peculiar manner but it certainly resembled a hand mirror.

After he said that, the item's surface slowly began to form words, the font was bizarre but he brushed it off. "Yes, Exalted Master! This humble servant of yours is a mirror!" He stared at the words blankly for a second before barely managing to not choke on his own spit. 'This "Exalted Master" of yours was crawling on the ground just a moment ago'... he deadpanned, clearing his throat.

It was a little unnerving to see a mirror that could communicate with him, but he had seen iPads and iPhones before so the shock didn't impact him too greatly, at the least it didn't make him befuddled. And, given, he was currently lost in a mysterious dark void and (now that he could see) wearing clothes that certainly didn't belong to him, a talking mirror wasn't his main concern.

"Exalted Master, how may I be of service?" It asked, and he somehow felt as if it was looking at him like a dog pleading not to be abandoned. He shifted his eyes to the darkness encompassing the both of them and pondered.

He wasn't sure if deciding to pick this mirror up and taking it was going to bring him any latent dangers but it wasn't as if he could just continue blindly crawling around, especially now that he actually had something to light his way. Plus, the company was well appreciated.

"Talk to me." He said, crouching down to take a hold of it before he started to slowly walk again, continuing straight ahead. "What's your name?" He asked it, tone casual as he used the light that the mirror emitted as a makeshift flashlight. "I don't have one, Great Master! Can I have the honor of being named by you?"

He released an amused huff at that. The mirror's behavior was a little familiar. He could remember reading a book a long time ago, one of the characters was a mirror who acted in the same strange fashion toward its master. "Then... How about Arrodes?"

"A brilliant name! Your ideas are beyond my comprehension, Great Exalted Master! You are indeed—" It seemed to be quite happy. The praises it had for him was far too long so he decided to not read the majority of it.

"Then, Arrodes, do you know how we can leave this place?" He didn't have much hopes for his question to actually be answered, but to his pleasant surprise, the mirror trembled slightly before answering. "The exit is very near, Great Master! Just right ahead! Exalted Being, are you going to bring me along?!"

He paused for a few seconds, deliberating over it, before he nodded. No harm in taking this fellow along, right?

"Yep, let's leave together Arro—" the remaining words died at the back of his throat, as his gaze slowly traced upwards till his neck started hurting from the stretch. He blankly stared at the wall of earth in front of him, mouth dry as he gaped at it. It was gigantic. Was that the exit that was "very near"?

"Hey.. Arrodes.. how am I supposed to leave this place again..?" He asked, dazed expression never abandoning him. He knew the answer, it was very clear how he was supposed to get out of here but still, he hoped the mirror knew of a better, more convenient way. "You have to climb, Exalted Master!"

"...ah...is that so.."

...

He panted helplessly, pulling his body up from that hell-hole with a deeply contorted expression and biting a mirror, he was exhausted, in pain, and drenched from his own sweat. As soon as he was a safe enough distance away from the cliff, he instantly collapsed under his own weight, cheek pressed against the cold tile. His arms were numb, and he was pretty sure his hands were bleeding, his shoulders felt like they would tear if he moved any longer. He spat out Arrodes, a corner of the mirror was moist with his own saliva.

He had needed a flashlight to see where he was holding unto and the best solution he had was to just bite into the mirror and hope his jaw didn't cramp. (it did)

He laid there for an hour or two, barely moving as he took his time to catch his breath and twitching in pain from time to time. Afterwards, he finally had barely enough energy and began to stand up, wary and aching.

Looking around with Arrodes as his torch, he could see an area that barely resembed a research lab. It was definitely old, dare he say ancient, from the rotting and discolored walls, the office chairs that were barely recognizable, to the tools that looked like they had made contact with a highly corrosive acid. He narrowed his eyes at the sight before pausing, his form frozen on the spot.

A shattered screen had shown him his own reflection and he nearly stumbled as he stared at himself, or more accurately, at the face that certainly wasn't his. His eyes trembled as he took everything in. Curly black hair, dark eyes, pale lips and skin, a thin and high nose, and most importantly — the monocle that hung in front of his right eye.

He hadn't even noticed its existence, it was as if it was meant to be there. As if his body was already so accustomed to it that he hadn't even processed its presence.

His eye twitched discernably, his lips curled as he looked on in horror and mild amusement. Although it had been a fairly long time since he read the novel, it was one of his favourites, and this particular man had given him a strange phobia for monocles.

"Amon.." He gritted out between his tightly clenched teeth, jaw stiff.

He had become Amon.