Chapter Text
An endless, empty void. Devoid of all sound, all feeling, all emotion.
In the middle of this void, a crane. Splayed out on the ground, if you can even call it that. Its wings clipped, preventing it from flying.
The crane slowly sits up. Its head, ringing, like static being played in its mind on repeat. It turns to observe its surroundings.
Emptiness. Darkness as far as the eye can see. No light exists in this place. The crane is alone with its thoughts.
It has been a year. A year since the crane was forced to leave home; its sanctuary. It was lonely. Solitude is a truly terrifying concept for this crane. It has always been around people. Whether the people hated it, revered it, that did not matter.
It missed its people. Being forced to leave home hurt. It had to make sacrifices to escape from its revolting fate; trapped in a bird cage, full of rotting desires.
Loneliness. It spreads through the crane’s body like a disease. At first, only affecting its stomach. Slowly it spreads to its heart. Its mind. Eating away at it.
The crane left to escape. But, in this moment, it feels more trapped in a cage than ever before.
Somewhere in the distance, or at least it appears to be, the inky black void begins to swirl. It churns, until it coalesces into a large, black sphere. A slit appears across it, then pulls back on the sphere to reveal that it is an eye. An eye which is now staring down at the crane.
As the crane looks up, its head begins to ache. The pain, now stronger than before, hits its temples like needles, sharp and sudden. Images begin to flash through its head.
Images of its childhood; its parents looking after it, meeting a friend, spending time with them.
Images of its adult life; being trapped in the cage that was its shrine, raising chicks.
Images…. Of events indescribable. Events that it was not able to process, information that it was not desiring to know.
That is when the crane begins to have various thoughts. Thoughts that feel foreign to it; thoughts it is not in control of having.
Why would you leave? You thought you could escape that cage… Why? It is impossible to truly leave it.
You are a coward for leaving. A coward for abandoning all the people around you.
You cannot escape from your duties. Your duties are to entertain. To serve. And yet here you are, wallowing away in the outside world, attempting to escape them. What are you doing?
The crane stands up, its slender legs seeming to sink back into the deep darkness underneath it. It attempts to open its wings to fly, but they are clipped; it is useless. It opens its beak to attempt to refute these thoughts, but alas, the only sound it can make is silence. It tries to walk, but sinks even deeper. Panic begins to set in.
It is alone. Alone, with the company of this eye before it. This all-seeing eye that has governed its life ever since it could remember. Appearing before it in dreams, giving it directions, nudging the bird towards ever more atrocious acts.
The inky dark void begins to climb up the body of the crane. It seeps into its skin. Every part of its body feels as though it is on fire, and yet freezing at the same time. It crawls along its body, through its veins, through its arteries, through every organ. The crane’s once pure white feathers fade to a deep black as its body begins to freeze up.
It cannot move. It cannot speak.
It sinks deeper and deeper into this void.
The crane is afraid. Or, at least, it thinks it is. It can’t tell if it is feeling its own emotions anymore. Are these emotions…?
The darkness seeps into its eyes and covers its face. It can no longer see. It can only think to itself.
Why is this happening? What is happening? This is not like the other dreams.
What have I done wrong? Why is it so forbidden to leave Mugenri…?
I have almost found it. The thing I need to enact my revenge and return home. I just need more time.
Please.
As its entire body is overtaken by this void, it has but one thought left in its mind; another that it is certain is not of its own volition. One that shook the crane to its core.
I am unamused, Tsurubami Senri.