ERROR

we dont have time 

hell way worse we dont have space 

you have to help them

stuck

if it happens again there will be a rift

a rupture 

a split in spheres and we dont have space

there is no out there

watch

The warmth is colossal and rings in your ears. But her eyes, her eyes open now and only just now as if fresh and newborn, glinting with the chaos of shattered fractals. She wants to scream but she does have a mouth which means there is no reason to scream because she can just talk. “Hello?” The echoes that bounce off the walls are uncertain, flimsy things crafted half of her own vocal embryo and a fourth out of sheer hollow dissolution. But the last fraction, that final one fourth, that thing is different and quite “Frickin weird.” She turns, startled, to the flickering little girl. The girl does the same, stares her dead in the eyes, is swallowed by the lack of pain. “You’re really here, aren’t you?” The nonexistent elvish thing’s tones rub FENNA the wrong way, and she turns around looking for something else. “Who’s that?” The little girl looks right at us and smirks. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, which is good advice. “Follow me.” Still stumbling Fenna makes her way up, treads behind the little girl and tries to find her balance. “These echoes,” the little girl begins, “And now these, are different from true echoes, that’s why it works.” The reference is self-cannibalizing, warped in the a way only fit for the dream. “Who is that,” she whispers. The girl swats her off. “shut it, few seconds,” she says as the words cascade across the walls. Then they’re at the entrance and sud