Traversing the Truth

[Caliban]

It was a puddle of presumed mud Vincent had "woken up" in. His eyes were fixated at the sky for a brief few seconds before getting up. The air around him had a foul smell, made stronger by the freezing winds. He straightened his back to gaze at his surroundings, yet despite them being "dead", the murmurs made them slightly more alive. Whether that was good or not was up for debate.

All he could see was a remote building - a house - that seemed to be inhabited. There was no other direction he could take. The feeling of being watched intensified by the minute, even more so than what he felt every single day after he tangled himself in the whole mess that was Kepler. With his heart beating madly and heavy breaths, he walked towards the house.

The closer he got, the more his vision began to blur, darken at its edges. The fear was overwhelming. Yet as always, there was no other path he could take. No other option. Pushed by the circumstances, he was a pawn in a bigger game. And he knew that it would get worse over time if he play his role.