A few days of humdrum and goofing off pass, and I feel pretty at ease about everything for the most part. The possibility of an unknown apparition attacking me ought to preoccupy me a little more than it does, but maybe because it’s an abstract concept to me right now, I have this sort of indifference towards the thought.
After all, I’ve endured dangers in the human world and managed to survive this long. The only difference is I didn’t get any warnings for the human dangers. So the way I see it, it’s best not to obsess over possibilities, otherwise I’ll be consumed by something that might not even happen. It’s just a statistic, like the likelihood of dying in a car crash.
And then one morning, despite a good night’s sleep, I wake up with a weird feeling of unease that I can’t quite place. Though I try to push it away with a shower and some toast, it hangs around my head like a fog. I do my best to be conversational with Lady as she goes through her morning routines, but articulating thoughts feels like wading through mud.
Where did this feeling come from? I can’t figure it out. Certainly, I have a lot on my mind, but nothing I feel especially perturbed about at the moment. It’s this foreign sensation I can only think to describe as an instinct. It makes my hair stand on end, like I’m some kind of wild animal smelling danger in the air.
What is this?
I watch Lady leave for the bar and manage to catch Tor before he leaves for his job. We exchange pleasantries, and he drives off.
I pace around the block, trying to rid myself of the unease through raw physical exertion. It doesn’t work, and if anything I think my body is mistaking the activity for some kind of preparatory fight or flight. Now I’m antsier than before.
The darkness… the formless, impartial darkness…
After another lap around the neighborhood, I find myself in front of Krystoff’s house. Approaching his porch. Experimentally reaching for the doorknob, only to find that the door is already slightly ajar. The unease stirs within me like a dowsing rod striking gold.
JUN: Krystoff… are you there…?
In any other situation, I’d walk away and mind my business, but the idea of leaving this alone puts an awful taste in my mouth. So I throw all caution to the wind and inhale before stepping across the helm.
All I can do is hope that whatever greets me on the other side of the wall of blackness will put my mind at ease. I hope this feeling is misplaced, and that a confused Krystoff will scold me for showing up uninvited. I’m sure that’s what’ll happen. I’m definitely being irrational right now! All this magic and sector and apparition stuff has just messed with my head.
…So why does the portal feel colder than before?