- Joined
- Oct 17, 2024
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Make Believe
Pacific Ridge and Rain’s first city, could never be described as hot.
This place, though tauntingly the same size of confinement as Pacific Ridge had been, was indeed, hot.
Like everything else, it could not be real. The conclusion Rain had made long ago, it was all, make believe.
A fantasy of some other mind elsewhere, surely the experiences in their life, the people they even now meet, were dreams.
It had to be a fiction, the degree of torment. Surely in a real world, nothing such as this could be real.
This, was the only shield Rain had, against the weight of the sins that had destroyed humanity, and assigned their generation to the damnation of having known the world before hell.
A sheer belief, that it was not real. Yet, even in this unending dream, there was stirrings, paintings of yearning for something they were ever so uncertain of. So too, was that feeling again assumed to be part of the dream.
The ever present feel of something missing. A deep, loneliness. The actors in the dream did not all, seem to share this feeling that Rain was so certain they felt in the dream, nay, nightmare, that never ended.
And now, the Nightmare was hot. As always, they feel alone. The environment here was especially dreamy, who could imagine so much sand without a beach? A desert, an insane concept only a dream could think of…
But that hot felt real,, and that was even scarier than loneliness.
What if it was not make believe? What if this life, was real, not simply a dream to be survived and wake up from?
If Pacific Ridge, and what happened there, was real? Well, whatever hope exists would wither, a coal dying in the blistering rain of reality.
It has to be make believe, some nightmare of whatever a normal lifes dreaming mind conjured.
It just, had to be.
It just, was unpleasant, that this dreams heat felt so real…
This place, though tauntingly the same size of confinement as Pacific Ridge had been, was indeed, hot.
Like everything else, it could not be real. The conclusion Rain had made long ago, it was all, make believe.
A fantasy of some other mind elsewhere, surely the experiences in their life, the people they even now meet, were dreams.
It had to be a fiction, the degree of torment. Surely in a real world, nothing such as this could be real.
This, was the only shield Rain had, against the weight of the sins that had destroyed humanity, and assigned their generation to the damnation of having known the world before hell.
A sheer belief, that it was not real. Yet, even in this unending dream, there was stirrings, paintings of yearning for something they were ever so uncertain of. So too, was that feeling again assumed to be part of the dream.
The ever present feel of something missing. A deep, loneliness. The actors in the dream did not all, seem to share this feeling that Rain was so certain they felt in the dream, nay, nightmare, that never ended.
And now, the Nightmare was hot. As always, they feel alone. The environment here was especially dreamy, who could imagine so much sand without a beach? A desert, an insane concept only a dream could think of…
But that hot felt real,, and that was even scarier than loneliness.
What if it was not make believe? What if this life, was real, not simply a dream to be survived and wake up from?
If Pacific Ridge, and what happened there, was real? Well, whatever hope exists would wither, a coal dying in the blistering rain of reality.
It has to be make believe, some nightmare of whatever a normal lifes dreaming mind conjured.
It just, had to be.
It just, was unpleasant, that this dreams heat felt so real…
Even underground, it was still hot - though the temperature was by far the least of Rain’s concern at present.
Was this all a dream? For their whole life, the dream had followed a trajectory of receive orders and performing them from a singular if many faced authority source. Yet here Rain was again - with the goal of surviving the dreaming meaning flight from the authority. The reality that simply could not be true, was caving in upon Rain now, collapsing the fragile shield that had kept them in their barely functional state.
But here Rain was, a dawning realization growing within them as they began to for the first time since their first few memories in youth of what reality was. The dream, collapsing into the reality - that it was all real. Every moment of physical and psychological torture that had shaped Rain into the cog they had been until but a few days ago was in fact, real.
“Student 045, please recite…”
It was all real, all of it.
“Do stop your screaming, and we’ll stop.”
Every single second carved into their mind.
“Place them in the isolation room for that, I’ll tend to Zero Four Five later.”
Rain did not know what was to come next, the dream they had survived so long in was over now. A reality they had avoided facing stood before them with little they could do. Perhaps however there was one thing that was perhaps a silver lining. Some parts of the dream, those less painful than others are perhaps real then.
The classmate who went by Prism, and their detached kindness, the sorrowful kindness of the young cook in the dormitory before her relocation, the patter of precipitation on the roof - it was all real.
This was not a bad thing - though it did mean the suffering those people within the good memories went through, was in fact, true as well.
It also meant, the reason Rain went by Rain, a shortening of Rainbow, was a real memory. The refraction of light in the rain, the image that changed how they saw themselves, was real.
Rain had no idea what was to come, what it all meant nor what life would mean with this being the reality they faced.
But the memory of the rainbow through that academy window, as they huddled in the corner of the tunnel, beckoned.
Was this all a dream? For their whole life, the dream had followed a trajectory of receive orders and performing them from a singular if many faced authority source. Yet here Rain was again - with the goal of surviving the dreaming meaning flight from the authority. The reality that simply could not be true, was caving in upon Rain now, collapsing the fragile shield that had kept them in their barely functional state.
But here Rain was, a dawning realization growing within them as they began to for the first time since their first few memories in youth of what reality was. The dream, collapsing into the reality - that it was all real. Every moment of physical and psychological torture that had shaped Rain into the cog they had been until but a few days ago was in fact, real.
“Student 045, please recite…”
It was all real, all of it.
“Do stop your screaming, and we’ll stop.”
Every single second carved into their mind.
“Place them in the isolation room for that, I’ll tend to Zero Four Five later.”
Rain did not know what was to come next, the dream they had survived so long in was over now. A reality they had avoided facing stood before them with little they could do. Perhaps however there was one thing that was perhaps a silver lining. Some parts of the dream, those less painful than others are perhaps real then.
The classmate who went by Prism, and their detached kindness, the sorrowful kindness of the young cook in the dormitory before her relocation, the patter of precipitation on the roof - it was all real.
This was not a bad thing - though it did mean the suffering those people within the good memories went through, was in fact, true as well.
It also meant, the reason Rain went by Rain, a shortening of Rainbow, was a real memory. The refraction of light in the rain, the image that changed how they saw themselves, was real.
Rain had no idea what was to come, what it all meant nor what life would mean with this being the reality they faced.
But the memory of the rainbow through that academy window, as they huddled in the corner of the tunnel, beckoned.
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