With a potential end to his never ending isolation in sight, Rein walked out of the water, back onto the shore and scraped the mud off of his shoes. As many cycles as he had been through, one last cycle was going to be simple enough. This particular cycle even seemed to be starting off on a brighter note. There was the slightest spring in his step as he trudged up the shore. The possibly of getting off of the island actually excited Rein.

He shielded his eyes as he looked over towards the sun hovering over the marshes in the west. I suppose it's best that I don't waste any time then, he thought. Perhaps something has actually changed since the last cycle. Wouldn't that be something. As he began to take the first step, however, something small - an idea - caused him to pause.

Do I really have to head west?

Naturally his route around the island should take him towards the marshes, considering he had just come from the mountains in the east.

The marshes are just so... sticky, he cringed.

He remembered how the mushy, saturated soil was almost impossible to traverse, not to mention the gross amounts of mud that caked up on him as he navigated the landscape. He thought back to how it took him nearly one-third of the last cycle to get his clothes completely clean. On the other hand, navigating the mountain range was no easy task. The craggy peaks were far more dangerous than the marshes were. Just like the water around the island, sometimes rubble would come to life under his feet and try to send him tumbling off the side of a cliff.

But the view... the view from the tops of the tall slopes was nothing less than breathtaking. In fact, he could nearly see the whole island from atop the tallest peak. No better way to see if anything has changed on the island than seeing it all at once, he reasoned. Perhaps it was time to change things up a bit as he did from time to time. After all, it had been nearly sixty cycles since the last time he had changed his routine, and considering this was going to be the last cycle it only made sense. Rein looked over at the small, yet majestic mountain range. The thought of being on the top of his world again was too much for him to resist. Rein, feeling adventurous on this final cycle, gleefully altered his course.

There weren't many things that excited Rein anymore, but this sudden change of plans certainly did. The last time he did something this bold was the time he decided to walk around the island with no clothes on. He did have to try everything at least once, of course. The marshes made him decide to never do that again.

With the small spring in his step now having almost grown into a bounce, he trekked up the sandy slope and up onto the grassy field of grey. Even the colorless meadow couldn't dampen his spirits now.

The grass crunched under his feet, breaking to pieces like glass as he walked east. Some of the blades that he stepped on survived, but having only a fraction of a second to come to life, most were shattered under his weight. But no matter how much the grass would break, it would always seem to generate anew after he lifted his foot. Rein gave little thought to the phenomenon anymore, having grown accustomed to the sound and feeling of it crushing under his feet. He knew that the broken pieces would manifest themselves back where they belonged. It was one of the many things he had to accept about his world if he was going to keep his sanity.

Having few major landmarks between him and his destination, he decided to use the free time to plan the itinerary for his journey.

Let's see. There's the spot where I thought I found an off shade patch of grass, so I'm about five hundred paces away from the short, spotted flower. If I veer to the right a bit, I should arrive near the lonely oak tree when I reach the forest.

The large oak was one of the many checkpoints in a cycle. It stood just on the outskirts of the forest that rested near the base of the mountains. There he would check the tree for any sign of a change, just like he had the thousands of times before. There were exactly two hundred and forty one thousand, six hundred and fifty three leaves on the tree, and he was going to make sure they were all there. After counting, he would recount, just to double-check, and take a few other measurements before scaling the first mountain.

Rein continued his planning as he walked. Thinking about the cycle helped him to pass the time while he made the long journey around the island. He had become proficient in the art of distracting his mind, preoccupying his thoughts with the cycle and his tasks. Actually, he was so good at it that he could sometimes "check out" of his body, putting himself in a sort of autopilot, and on terrain as dull as the meadow, the act was almost effortless.

In no time, or what seemed to be no time, Rein arrived at the base of the gnarly oak tree. Mechanically, he began to count the leaves without even thinking, pointing to each one as he did.

One, two.... Strangely, his eyes lost their focus for a moment, causing him to lose his place. He sighed and thought nothing of it.

One, two, three.... Then it happened again. Mildly upset, Rein reached up to rub his eyes. As he did, a strange sensation came over him. His muscles began to contract in an odd fashion. Then, his mouth opened wide as his lungs engorged themselves with air. The feeling both relaxed and startled him.

Was that... a yawn? I haven't been tired in.... Rein's heart rate began to hasten.

This cycle is turning out to be full of surprises, Rein thought as he yawned again. His mind had wandered for so long that he didn't even feel the fatigue creep over him. His body demanded that he sit down for a while. Rein willingly obliged.

I should be able to count the leaves from down here anyway, he told himself. He resumed counting, taking a moment to rest the back of his head against the tree.

One, two, three, four... five.... Rein blinked a few times to clear his vision. It seemed that now the already faded colors were draining out of the tree completely as he counted. Six... seven.... It was almost impossible for his eyes to make out individual leaves. His eyelids began to droop. He forced them open only to find that his weak eyes were beginning to cross. Quickly, he refocused them.

But Rein was so tired.

No sense in counting when I can't see the leaves. I suppose I'll just wait here until things brighten up a bit. His eyes slowly drew shut, and, for the first time,

Rein fell asleep.