Lonely Path

After an indefinite amount of time, Arthur's consciousness returned to him. He sat up as the sticky vomit clung to his clothes. Repulsed, he took off the black shirt and threw it away. His breaths came in intervals and his throat was shaking when he exhaled. 

Closing his eyes and opening them did next to nothing to calm him down. The only thing that did, however, was time. In the end, he regained his ability to think clearly.

The stench of his stomach acids pricked his nose as Arthur sat there, his hands on the ground. His mind was in turmoil with what he had just seen. 

The power to alter the world was different from the power of creation. If his power of creation came from runes, then the power of alternation came from that being. 

'His eyes…'