The tower stood. It had always stood.

I stood before it. My knees shook. The rain was cold. It cut my face. I did not blink. The stone was wet. It gleamed like a bruise.

My name is Elias. I am a seer. Or I was. The words taste like ash. I walk the moor. The heather is black. It has died in the frost. The sky is gray. It presses down.

I am looking for the gate.

The tower is the gate. It is the mouth of the world.

I have come a long way. My feet are numb. The cold is in my bones. It eats me. I do not care. I must enter. I must speak.

I remember the fire. It was not a fire. It was a light. It took everything. It took the house. It took the street. It took the faces. I saw them in the smoke. They were not burning. They were waiting.

They told me to find the tower.

I asked who told me.

No one answered.

The voice was inside my head. It was my own voice. It was older. It was tired. It said, Go.

I went.

I walked for days. I saw no one. The roads were empty. The cars were dead. Their batteries were dead. The glass was cracked. The birds were gone. The silence was loud. It rang in my ears.

I reached the foot of the hill. The tower loomed. It was black stone. It was old. It was newer than I thought. It was newer than the earth.

I climbed.

The stairs were spiral. They were tight. My head hit the wall. I bled. I kept going. The air grew thin. The air grew sweet. It smelled of ozone. It smelled of blood.

I reached the top.

The door was open.

It had no handle. It had no lock. It was just a mouth.

I stepped inside.

The room was empty. There was a chair. It was wooden. It was simple. It was waiting.

I sat down.

I waited.

Time did not pass. Time stopped. The dust hung in the air. It did not fall. The light did not move. I was frozen. I was the only thing moving. My heart beat. *Thump. Thump. Thump.*

Then, the voice came.

It was not a voice. It was a pressure. It pushed against my skull.

*You are late.*

I said nothing. I could not speak. My throat was dry.

*You are here to give.*

I nodded.

*What do you give?*

My life.

*No.*

I looked at the chair. I looked at my hands. They were shaking. The blood on my forehead had dried. It was a red line. A scar.

*You give your memory. You give your name. You give your face.*

I wanted to run. I wanted to stand up. My legs would not move. I was trapped. The chair held me. The room held me.

*Why?* I whispered. The words were small. They died in the air.

*Because the door is closing. Because the dark is coming. Because you are the key.*

I did not understand. I was a seer. I saw things. I saw the future. I saw the end. I saw the tower falling. I saw the ground cracking. I saw the sky turning red.

I did not see myself dying. I saw myself leaving. I saw myself walking away. I saw the light fading behind me.

I was mistaken.

The voice laughed. It was a cold sound. It was like ice cracking.

*You think you are the hero. You think you are the savior. You are the fuel.*

I felt a pain. It started in my chest. It spread. It went to my arms. It went to my legs. It went to my head.

I tried to scream. No sound came out.

The room began to change. The walls dissolved. The floor dissolved. I was floating. I was falling. I was falling up.

I saw the village. I saw the houses. They were empty. The doors were open. The tables were set. The food was cold. No one had eaten. No one would eat.

I saw my mother. She was young. She was standing in the kitchen. She was washing a dish. She looked up. She saw me. She smiled.

I reached for her. My hand passed through the air. I was gone. I was nowhere. I was everywhere.

The pain stopped. The fear stopped.

There was only silence.

I opened my eyes.

I was in the chair. The room was solid. The stone was wet. The rain was falling outside.

I was still there.

I was whole.

I stood up. My legs were strong. My heart was steady. I felt light. I felt free.

I walked to the door. I opened it.

The wind hit me. It was warm. The sun was out. The sky was blue. The clouds were white. The heather was green.

It was beautiful.

I looked back at the tower. It was empty. The door was closed. The stone was silent.

I turned around. I walked down the hill.

I walked fast. I wanted to get to the village. I wanted to tell them. I wanted to say, It is over. The dark has passed. We are safe.

I ran. My feet flew. The ground blurred.

I reached the village square.

It was empty.

There were no people. There were no cars. There were no houses.

There was only grass.

The grass grew where the streets had been. The grass grew where the houses had been. The grass grew where the people had been.

I stood in the square. I was alone.

The wind blew. It carried a scent. It was the scent of ozone. It was the scent of blood.

I fell to my knees. The grass was soft. It was warm.

I looked at my hands. They were clean. They were smooth. They were young.

I looked at the sky. It was vast. It was endless.

I had given my memory. I had given my name. I had given my face.

But I had kept my body. I had kept my breath. I had kept my life.

Was that not a mercy?

I tried to remember. I tried to remember the fire. I tried to remember the faces. I tried to remember the voice.

Nothing came.

My mind was blank. It was a white page. It was a clean slate.

I did not know who I was. I did not know where I was. I did not know why I was here.

But I knew I was alive.

I stood up. I brushed the grass from my knees.

I walked away from the square. I walked toward the trees. I walked into the woods.

The trees were tall. They were dark. They whispered.

I listened.

They said, *Welcome home.*

I did not understand. But I smiled.

I walked deeper. The path disappeared. The light faded.

I was alone.

I was free.

The tower was behind me. I did not look back.

The rain stopped. The sun set. The stars came out.

I sat under a tree. I closed my eyes.

I dreamed of nothing.

I woke up.

The sun was rising.

I stood up. I stretched. My bones clicked.

I looked around. The forest was silent.

I took a step. Then another.

I was walking. I was always walking.

I did not know where I was going. I did not know if I would ever stop.

But I was moving.

I was alive.

The tower stood. It had always stood.

I was the key. I had turned it.

The door was closed.

The dark was gone.

Or was it?

I felt a cold spot in my chest. It was small. It was deep. It was there.

I ignored it.

I walked on.

The road was long. The road was endless.

I walked.

I walked.

I walked.

The world was new. It was clean. It was empty.

I was the only thing left.

I was the sacrifice. I was the redemption.

I was the nightmare.

I was the dream.

I walked into the mist. The mist swallowed me.

I was gone.

The tower stood.

It waited.

It always waits.