Chapter 118: Ch156. Sickness - 11 (The bright red in the sky is the answer you should look for)
His head hurt like nothing else in the world, and it took him several seconds to finally get the slightest glimpse of relief.
But it took him several minutes to become able to get up without feeling the word revolving around him like a yo-yo.
It wasn’t until Kurt stood up, though, trying to shake off the pang of migraine with everything he had, that he realized that the streets, houses, buildings, everything around him, was completely deserted.
There wasn’t a single living soul around.
Where he once, just a few minutes ago, if he wasn’t recalling it incorrectly, saw children playing, parents paying attention to them, passersby walking down the streets, and all other kinds of human life going on, there was nothing to be seen, but empty places.
He walked, aimlessly, through the deserted streets.
He picked up a popsicle from one shop, a cookie from another, and even a cup of coffee that was on the outside table of a cafe.
Kurt took a sip of his drink, and spat it out, making a face.
How could anyone like something so bitter?
Kurt started to feel lonely there, as time went by.
No matter how much he looked, Nikolai was nowhere to be found.
And Kurt couldn’t find anyone to play with.
It was as if he was living alone, in a ghost town.
In a ghost world.
The day was coming to an end, and as the sun descended towards the horizon, Kurt began to feel drowsy.
The weather was mild and pleasant, so little Kurt didn’t feel the need to seek shelter.
He just found a park bench, laid down there, and closed his eyes.
***
[WAKE UP]
When Kurt opened his eyes again, he wasn’t lying on the park bench.
It looked more like a very comfortable and soft armchair.
And in front of him, there was a middle-aged man, bespectacled, in a suit, and with a trustworthy, affable appearance.
"Kurt?" The man called, snapping his middle finger against his thumb a few times. "Are you there? Was there another episode?"
"Huh... Episode?" Kurt asked.
This time he was startled.
His voice, previously soft, even a little high-pitched, as a child, had been replaced by a slightly more accentuated timbre, only occasionally still finding that sharpness it had when Kurt was just ten years old.
"What’s wrong, Kurt? Do you need a glass of water? Do you want me to open the window to let in some fresh air?" The middle-aged man asked helpfully.
Kurt looked around.
He was in a soberly decorated room.
Few paintings adorned the walls, and even they didn’t seem to give much life to the place.
It was as if the potted plants in the corners, the pictures on the walls, and even the finely crafted tapestry on the floor did not give any life to the place, furnished with a ceiling fan, a solid wood desk, two divans, and two extremely comfortable armchairs, as well as a bookshelf, which gave the place the feel of an office, or even a psychological care clinic.
’What am I doing here?’ Kurt wondered.
"No, it’s okay." Kurt responded loudly. "I just...-"
"You can tell, we’ve been working together long enough that you don’t need to feel embarrassed admitting that you’ve had another one of your recurring memory lapses, right, my dear?"
A chill ran down Kurt’s spine.
[WAKE UP PLEASE]
"ARGH!" Kurt held his forehead with both hands, feeling the stinging pain of an especially bad migraine attack.
"Come on, slow down." The man said, gently lifting Kurt, and guiding him to one of the couches.
"You said, recurring lapses of memory... What do you mean by that?" Kurt couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong there.
[IF YOU DON’T WAKE UP]
[EVERYONE WILL DIE]
Kurt forced his mind to be still, until, after some time and several deep breaths, the migraine passed, along with the incessant voice.
"What do you mean by these episodes? Who are you?" Kurt asked, making the middle-aged man’s eyes widen.
"Heavens... You keep dissociating, don’t you?" He asked, his tone alarmed. "Why didn’t you tell me that before?"
Kurt was lost in the middle of it all, but the man just kept talking, as if he wasn’t really paying attention to Kurt.
"We’re going to need to increase your medication dosage. It’ll be uncomfortable for the first few weeks, but you’ll learn to get used to it, and in a month, come see me again. I need to know if the episodes are still happening."
The more the man talked, the more confused Kurt became.
It was as if the walls of that room were becoming narrower and narrower, too tight.
Kurt’s breathing was becoming labored, but instead of screaming, which Kurt strangely felt should be the appropriate response to what he was feeling, he just stared at the middle-aged man for a long time, taking as deep a breath as he could.
"What. Episodes. Are. These. Doctor?"
’Why did I call him doctor?’ Kurt frowned after asking.
Unfazed, the man responded.
"Now... The situations in which you come to me talking about Nests, guilds, and what else? ... What was the name... Ah, yes. Wielders."
Kurt’s eyes widened, cold ran through his skin, and the world seemed to spin faster around him.
Kurt knew there was no way that made any sense, but at the same time...
’Why does this make so much sense? Why does it feel like I’m missing something?’
[WAKE UP]
[WAKE UP]
[WAKE UP]
[WAKE UP]
An incessant, irritating voice screamed in Kurt’s head.
And the more he tried to force her to be quiet, the more she screamed.
It was as if he was dealing with a troubled teenager.
’What? How do I know what it’s like to be a teenager?’
Kurt’s breathing became difficult again, and, little by little, Kurt’s consciousness became lost in the void again.
***
Kurt opened his eyes, and his head was pointed toward the sky.
There was something going on there.
It took Kurt a few moments to regain his sense of where he was and what was happening.
And when he finally did, he noticed that a red trail crossed the sky from one end of the city to the other.
[KURT BLAKE...]
[COME TO ME...]
The headache became more and more intense, until Kurt took the first step, his body acting as if of its own accord.
After the first step, Kurt took another, and another.
And with each step I took, towards the end of that red trail in the sky, the headache lessened.
Until Kurt’s legs seemed to move of their own accord again.
Faster and faster this time.
And Kurt found himself running after that meteor, which seemed to be getting closer and closer to Earth, burning bright red against the atmosphere.
