The walls are huge. They reach all the way towards the sky, the very top being lost in the thick of the puffy white clouds. The walls are made from a smooth, black metal that seems to absorb any light cast upon it. There is one entrance, a pair of golden gates that glow no matter the weather. The gates are made from bars, allowing anyone who passes by to see what lies beyond the wall. The inside is a path paved in white stones lightly dusted with silver sparkles. Giant houses, more like mansions, line the road with their own yards and fences to mark territories. The path seems to end at a giant tree that sits in the dead center of the enclosement. Right above the tree is a floating island with a waterfall and a rickety rope hanging off of it. There are usually people visibly walking around. They go from house to house, or they head towards the floating island in the middle. Sometimes, someone leaves the gates with a large smile on their face and a hand raised to wave. Rarely will you see someone go into the place, but rarely does not mean never.

Tommy stands at the large gates of Origins. There is no one outside the houses, probably because it's nearing the middle of the night. The reason he isn't being responsible and sleeping during the night is because he hasn't been able to sleep well for the past few weeks. Ever since an encircled question mark appeared on his hand overnight, he hasn't been able to do anything but move towards Origins. He couldn't sleep or eat unless he was practically on the verge of collapse, and even then, the burning sensation in his head wouldn't leave him. Every fiber of his being wanted to be at Origins. Every fiber except his brain.

Tommy was perfectly content to live out the rest of his days in a village. While the people weren't exactly welcoming, they weren't cruel to him. He had a little garden that supplied him with his food and multiple pets that would keep him company. He didn't need some fancy title, and he definitely didn't need a relocation. He had been able to ignore the mark on his hand and every painful sensation that came with it for over a week, but he was only mortal. His endurance and strength had limits. His brain was smart enough to realize his options were Origins or death. He had come too far to let death take him now.

Tommy wonders what he's supposed to do now. He made it to Origins. The feeling in his chest had waned enough for him to think coherently once more. There was an instinct in his chest to continue marching, to find the house in Origins that belonged to him. He did not follow that instinct. It was easily ignorable. He didn't want to be in there, and he was known as a stubborn person for a reason.

Tommy turned away from the golden gates. He marched back into the forest. With each step, something tightened in his chest like a pulled rubber band. He settled in a tree that was close enough for him to still be able to see the walls without being able to see the golden gates. He was close enough that the pain in his chest wasn't unbearable. He put his backpack in his lap, looking down at the symbol on his hand.

The world was filled with a lot of threats. There was constant fighting between different species, the ever present threat of evil gods, and terrifying monsters born from the abyss. For the sake of the world, some gods formed a pantheon. Together, the pantheon took on the responsibility of fighting against the evil gods that prayed for the world's destruction. This left two more problems: mortal wars and the abyssal monsters. The pantheon came up with another solution for both. They created a place imbued with so much divine energy that no evil god could get within hundred miles of it. They protected this place with heavy magic and technology. This place was called Origins for it was the first home of the Chosen.

The Chosen were known as the children of the gods. They were sentient creatures with something so uniquely special about them that they were noticed by the gods. The pantheon would decide which house the Chosen fell into, and that person would then be claimed. The Chosen were given the responsibility of maintaining peace and fighting abyssal monsters by borrowing some of their patron god's power. They were allowed to rest and train at Origins until they were given a mission by the gods to accomplish.

Most people were considered lucky to be a Chosen one. They would become powerful heroes who would be revered and respected for all of eternity. They would be endowed with supernatural magic and strength.

Tommy did not consider himself lucky. He never wanted to be part of the Chosen. He had spent most of his life living in mediocrity in order to avoid the gods. He suspected that if the gods knew of his existence, they would immediately smite him. Like most sentient creatures, Tommy didn't want to die. He had spent so much of his life trying to do just that: live. Even if the gods hadn't chosen to immediately smite him, he suspected this was some sort of power play. They were using him for their own ends, and Tommy hated feeling like he was a puppet again. He had escaped chains once, so who was to say he couldn't do it again?

Tommy placed his backpack underneath his head, leaning onto the tough fabric that held his clothes and a few precious belongings he couldn't bear to part with. He kept his eyes pinned on the sky, knowing the goddess who resided over them was watching him back. She was the goddess of a million eyes, after all, the one who viewed the world through the sun, moon, and stars. He also knew that the god of nature was all around him, probably viewing him through the eyes of the animals hidden in the shadows and tucked away in the soul of the tree he sat in the branch of. There might have been a thousand pairs of eyes on him from the multiple gods who either wanted him to enter Origins to be claimed or run as far away from it as he could.

—

Tommy was surviving. He continued to sleep in the tree he found the first night he came to Origins. He had thankfully brought a bow with him and his pocket knife. He was able to survive by eating the animals off the land. He hunted a lot when he was back at the village. He tried to remain a vegetarian, but he didn't have any seeds or the time to wait for his garden to grow. He wasn't going to survive without meat, and that meant he had to hunt animals so close to Origins. The god of nature would no doubt know about the slaughter of his children, but Tommy couldn't think of anything else to do. The gods already knew about his existence. He just hunted what he needed, and let all the other animals go about their merry business.

When he lived in the village, Tommy wasn't religious. If he prayed or went to church, the gods would have noticed him eventually. He didn't make sacrifices to the gods because they would definitely notice that. Now, however, it didn't matter what Tommy did. The pantheon knew he was there. He would burn whatever parts of the animal he couldn't eat with a prayer sent up to the god of nature. Tommy hoped that would appease the god.

It seemed to do the trick. It seemed to do a lot of tricks because Tommy found it surprisingly easy to find an animal every time he ran out of meat to eat. He would still have to hunt it himself, but it felt like the animals were being delivered to him. Tommy wondered if the pantheon cared about his livelihood more than he thought they would. One of them was offering to make him their child, after all.

Tommy pushed those thoughts away, though. No one wanted a dead man. He couldn't prove the gods' point if he was a rotting corpse.

The marking on Tommy's hand didn't disappear, and it didn't morph into something else. He supposed that whatever god had decided he would be their child was waiting for him to enter Origins before he was claimed by them. They hadn't given up on him, either. They were waiting for him, and Tommy was starting to realize that immortal creatures probably had a lot more patience than he had stubbornness.

—

Tommy was lying on his branch when he heard people crunching across the leafy ground. There were two distinct voices chattering to one another as they walked. Tommy looked down at them, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was, in fact, two people. There was a tall one with his skin split down the middle between chalk white and ebony black, his hair following suit. His eyes were also split, but it was between deep red and rich green instead of black and white. He was wearing a suit with a purple allium flower tucked in his jacket pocket. The other person was shorter with light brown hair and pale green-blue eyes that sparkled in the late morning. He had a pair of bee wings shooting out of his back and dark brown horns curling out of his head. He was wearing a bright green shirt tucked into brown pants, a sword scabbard at his side. He seemed to be talking with his hands as the other boy followed along.

They stopped near the tree. The shorter boy looked up, meeting Tommy's gaze head-on. The taller of the two stared at his friend for a long moment before he also looked up, taking a little longer to find Tommy. The shorter boy cupped his hands around his mouth before shouting, "Hello! My name is Tubbo, and this is Ranboo! Who are you?"

"Fuck off," Tommy shouted back down. Obviously, Tubbo and Ranboo were two Chosen. From this distance, Tommy couldn't see what markings were displayed on their hands. He wasn't sure whose children they were. He did know that they came from the direction of Origin's gate, and who else would come from that direction other than the Chosen ones?

"That isn't a name, species, or title," Tubbo yelled. There was a slight smile on Tubbo's face as he acted ignorant, and Ranboo seemed to be slightly annoyed by Tubbo's antics. He turned to Tubbo. Tommy wasn't sure if Ranboo said something or whispered it, but he couldn't hear the words from where he was. Tommy was almost tempted to jump down to pick a physical fight with the boys, but he was smart enough to know it wasn't wise to face off against any Chosen ones. He would not only be facing off against two people with multiple augmentations, but he would be crossing the line with whoever the Chosen ones' patrons were. Tommy couldn't afford to make enemies with the gods, not when their claim on him was growing more evident with each passing day.

"It's a fucking warning, dipshit. Go away," Tommy called to the pairing, turning away from both of them.

"Why are you in that tree? It doesn't make any sense. There's no advantage to that location if you're a spy, and a Chosen one would have just gone inside. We can point you in the direction of an orphanage if you're homeless," Tubbo continued, not getting the very clear message to leave Tommy alone in his tree. Tommy scowled. What had he done to deserve any of this? Was his creation enough for the universe to frown upon him? He didn't ask to be born; he didn't ask for a will to live. Both had happened to him, and it was outside of his control. Tommy looked towards the sky. The goddess of the sky was probably looking down at him right now through her golden eye. She knew that he wasn't going to budge, but she didn't tell any of the other gods on the pantheon that.

"I'm not a spy, you little shit. If I was a spy, you wouldn't fucking know I was there. I would be the best goddamn spy out there," Tommy denied that singular part of Tubbo's argument. All the other points were pretty valid. A Chosen one would have gone inside. A normal one, that is. Tommy was technically homeless. The village he called his home was no longer accessible, and it wasn't that much like a home in the first place. He couldn't go back to it. He didn't want to go back to it. He needed to, but that need was born out of fear for his current predicament and not his love for that place.

"Yeah, I didn't think you were a spy. I just don't get what you are," Tubbo said, his voice tempering off at the end. He might have said something more, but it was lost in the wind that was starting to pick up. Ranboo placed his hand against the wind. His eyebrows knitted together, and he seemed to determine something. He turned to Tubbo, saying something to him. With those words, Tubbo and Ranboo walked away. Tubbo waved to Tommy as they passed beneath the branch, and soon, the two were gone.

—

Tommy was given one day of silence and nature. The next, he heard three things approaching his tree: leaves crunching, a guitar playing, and a voice singing. All three noises came from one source. A lanky brunette with circular, wire-rimmed glasses in front of his soft brown eyes as walking towards Tommy's tree with a yellow sweater on his back and a light brown instrument in his hands. He was singing some song about tragic lovers, his voice rising and falling with the imitation of emotions. He didn't stop until he came to Tommy's tree. He leaned against it, throwing one leg over the other as he continued to strum chords.

Tommy leaned against the trunk of the tree with his feet hanging off the side of the branch. Against his will, he closed his eyes. The man's song shifted to one about the beauty of nature, and he spoke about places Tommy had only dreamed about visiting. He mentioned a deep blue ocean sparkling in sunlight. He sang about golden dunes covering the entire expanse of deserts. He brought up the subject of the refreshing rain that poured from the clouds hanging low over a rainforest. Tommy had only ever traveled through forestry. He didn't know anything about these other places. He almost felt like he was there when the man described them.

Eventually, the man stopped playing his song. Tommy's eyes snapped open when he was met with silence. He looked down to see if the man was still there, and he found himself staring right into the man's eyes. The man smiled at Tommy. It was a painfully kind smile that made Tommy want to look away immediately. He had never been on the receiving end of that smile, but he had seen them before when he would visit the village square. Families and friends looked at each other like that. People who unconditionally cared about you would look at you like that. Tommy had no one to look at him like that.

"So, you're the mysterious person Ranboo and Tubbo were talking about. Everyone's curious about you. They all want to know who you are and what you're doing here. Would you be able to shed some light on the situation?" The man said, and Tommy knew that kind smile was too good to be true. The man in front of him wasn't being kind to Tommy; he was being kind to someone who had something he wanted. Based on his honeyed words and beautiful songs, he must have been the child of Festival. She was the goddess of the arts and manipulation, a creature of many forms all sharing the same sinister smile.

"Like I told those two, fuck off," Tommy said to the man, swinging his legs back onto the tree branch.

"And there's the foul mouth they mentioned. I don't mean to be rude, but you are a little too close to my home to be inconspicuous. I'm certain you're here for a reason. Believe it or not, I want to help you. Is there someone inside Origins you're trying to meet? Are they your hero or family member? Or are you a religious person who wants to be closer to the gods? Are you seeking answers from them? Is it none of the above and I'm a horrible guesser?" The man continued with a light laugh ringing in his voice.

Tommy looked down at him. He had slung his guitar over his shoulder, the instrument hanging against his back. The man had his hands in his dark brown jacket pockets with an awkward smile gracing his face. He was making himself look defenseless. He was making it look like he could be trusted. Tommy wanted to laugh bitterly. This man was nothing more than a child of the gods Tommy was trying to avoid. They may have gotten one lock on him, but Tommy wouldn't let them get another.

"It seems you have shut yourself off from me. I apologize if I've done something to upset you. I didn't mean to. I was just trying to make conversation," The man said. He looked lost in thought for a moment. He leaned against the tree again, his guitar swinging around to land in his hands. He strummed the chords with a ghost of a smile on his face. Tommy wanted to shout at the man to leave him alone, but he liked the music a little too much. Tommy leaned against the tree once more to listen to the song.

He wondered, not for the first time, what it was like inside Origins. From what he had seen so far, the people were vastly different. There must have been all walks of life wandering within the walls. He wondered if they were all happy. Did they all think they were special because they had been claimed by a god? Did they all consider themselves powerful or heroic?

The man continued to play a song, and Tommy drifted off to restful, dreamless sleep.

—

He was given two days this time before someone else came to his tree. It wasn't any of the previous three. It was a pink-haired man with muscles rippling down his arms and bunny ears shooting out his head. There was a slight pink tint to his skin, and he was wearing a few golden items around his person. There was an axe strapped to his back, shining in the afternoon sun. The man stared up at Tommy for a long moment, and Tommy stared right back down. Their staring contest went on for a few minutes before the man bent his knees. When his knees straightened out, he launched himself into the air with a powerful jump. He lands on the tree branch with Tommy, and the blonde can feel the whole tree shake as he desperately grabs the wood. When the tree settles, Tommy glares up at the man. "What the fuck, bitch?! Your fatass could have knocked us down to the ground. Big Man Tommy is a lot of things, but invincible isn't one of them!"

The man bent his knees once more. He didn't spring up immediately. He instead looked Tommy over with cold, empty eyes. His hand was on his axe, and his other hand was closed into a loose fist. Tommy felt something painful rise in his chest. He tried pushing it back down, but it continued to rise up. The man finally spoke, "Hullo."

" Hello ? You scared me halfway to the fucking afterlife, and all you have to say is fucking 'hello' ? Shit, man, you really are one of those Chosen bastards," Tommy spat out with a thousand harsh words ready right behind it. That was when he saw the man's hand. The marking was there, but the man's marking was painted with a blood red color instead of medium gray. The shape was a huge eye filled with a crossing sword and axe instead of a pupil surrounded by swirling lines intersecting one another. It was the marking of the Blood God, the god of war and violence. He was known for creating the deadliest warriors who were as strong as a small army. Tommy felt his blood run cold. The Blood God was one of the few gods he definitely didn't want to interact with. The other gods might spare Tommy, but the Blood God wasn't known for his rationality. He would brutally destroy Tommy. It would be a painful, bloody death.

Tommy sat up quickly, trying to put as much distance between him and the child of the Blood God. He wondered if he could outrun the Chosen one. He knew he couldn't beat him in a fight. If the Blood God, who notoriously lacked Chosen ones, decided that this guy was worthy of his attention, Tommy wasn't going to attempt to fight him. There was absolutely no point in pretending like he would make it out alive, let alone unscathed.

"Relax. I'm not here to hurt you," The Chosen one said with a monotonic voice that seemed to fill the tense bubble surrounding the two. Tommy looked around, obviously not believing the words that were spoken to him. The golden eye of the sky goddess was blaring down at him like she was staring intently. The plants began to sway in the breeze, all of their buds pointing at the treetop like the god of nature arrived to witness how the events unfolded. The other gods must have been there, too, in all the various ways they viewed the world around them. Tommy sucked in a harsh breath, hoping his godly patron would give him a little bit of power.

Unfortunately, the question mark remained on Tommy's backhand.

"I'm Techno. I'm from Origins. The others sent me to see if you were a threat," The Chosen one laid it all bare for Tommy to hear. Tommy felt something stir painfully in his heart. He didn't look like it, but he was technically a threat to Origins. He shouldn't have ever been allowed this close to the barracks of the gods' soldiers. If Techno knew- if anyone knew- it wouldn't matter what tattoos were inked onto his body from some primordial force. He would be destroyed in a second without a hint of mercy. He could imagine the axe hanging off Techno's back sliding seamlessly into his neck as if he were made from glass and butter instead of flesh and bone. He could imagine that Tubbo fellas hooves stopping into Tommy's chest until blood instead of air entered and exited his lungs. Ranboo and Wilbur didn't seem powerful, but Tommy knew that they were. They must have wielded some mystical abilities that made them special. That made them the Chosen few of the gods. Tommy really didn't want to die.

"It seems you're a Chosen," Techno continued, either unaware or unbothered by how much Tommy was panicking. He hadn't felt this way since he had broken the chains that held him to that shadowy prison. Unlike all the other lost souls there, Tommy had found the light. He had embraced the light like his kind were told never to do. Tommy had been good. He hadn't caused any trouble for anyone. This wasn't fair, and Tommy wondered how much fun the god of temptation and luck was having. The goddess of entertainment and insanity was probably enjoying toying with his fragile soul like he was another one of her puppets in the show she called life.

Tommy wondered which god decided to spare him. Techno jumped down from the tree, landing on his feet without even a whimper of pain escaping him. Techno trotted back to Origins, and Tommy noticed that Techno had hooves instead of feet. He exhaled a lot more sharply than he really needed to, relaxation coursing through the trodden paths anxiety made. That relaxation faded as Tommy realized too many people knew where he was at. He needed to go somewhere else. He needed to find a place that was farther away and safer. He needed to find a place that was far from the starry eyes of the sky goddess and the omnipresence of the nature god.

—

Tommy moved underground to a cave that was filled with mushrooms and dirt. There were no plants in sight, and he couldn't see the sky when he hid in the darkest crevices of the cave. He knew that he couldn't completely escape the gods, but he, at least, knew that two of the pantheon members had no sway over him here. He would need to venture out for food, but he would do that as infrequently as his health allowed him to do. He just had to remain there until the question mark wore off.

Tommy sat at a river now. He had come to wash himself off. His plans had changed after he noted that he no longer smells like fresh manure. He was holding his hand under the water. He had been trying desperately to rub the question mark off, and his skin was still red to prove how hard he tried. The question mark persistently remained. When he saw it, Tommy could only stare with growing frustration. He despised his impossible situation, and he could feel tears born from unfairness springing to his eyes. He had one option left, he supposed, and that was to get rid of his hand. If the mark was gone, everything else would soon follow. Tommy could return home without ever having to get involved with the struggle between the gods and the abyss. Tommy left his hand in the freezing water, wondering how long it would take for hypothermia to set in. If his hand was too far to be saved, he could beg some local doctor at a village far away from Origins to cut it off. It wasn't a foolproof plan by any means, but it was the only viable option he had.

"Mate, what are you doing?" He heard something behind him. He nearly screamed in outrage as he whirled around to see which Chosen one decided they would play hero today. It wasn't anyone he had met before. It was someone new. It was a man with dirty blonde hair and eyes as cerulean as the sky above their heads. It was a man with large ebony black wings sprouting from his back to cover his dark green robes. Tommy suspected this was a child of the sky goddess who had been sent by her to stop Tommy from removing the god's curse from himself. Tommy was proven wrong when the man stepped close enough for Tommy to notice how the circle in his hand enclosed a bird in flight instead of two swirling semicircles of the day and night sky mixing together into the void. This wasn't a child of the sky goddess; this was the child of the death goddess.

"The fuck does it look like I'm doing? Open your goddamn eyes for one fucking second," Tommy snapped, standing to his feet. His hand burned painfully as it soaked in the warmth from the air around it. All his time spent holding it under the water until his skin prickled and his muscles tensed was starting to disappear quicker than it came.

"You shouldn't be out here. The nights are starting to get colder. You'll get sick and possibly die out here. Why don't you come inside to Origins with me? That tattoo on your hand means that you can come live with us. We'll find which house you belong to in no time," The man said with a kind smile coming to face despite Tommy's harshness. Tommy wasn't sure how he felt, but he knew he was seconds away from both yelling out every curse he knew and sobbing against the forest floor. He didn't want to enter Origins, and he definitely didn't want to die. It was starting to become one of his bad days when the wickedness of the past, unfairness of the present, and mystery of the future clashed together in an explosion that he was the catalyst for. His emotions rolled in his chest uncomfortably, and he felt every bit like the monster he had been born to be.

"Shut the hell up. I'm not fucking stupid. I know what this is. I know what that shitty place is. I know what that fucking thing on your hand is. I know all of the fucking gods, and I know as sure as hell is hot and the sky goddess is watching us right now that I don't want any fucking part of this," Tommy snapped, the bristling ball of emotions and energy in his stomach rolling around uncomfortably until it climbed up his throat to deliver harsh threats. He knew that he should have left the man alone. He should have walked away. He definitely shouldn't have picked a fight. But was Tommy if not everything he shouldn't be? What was he if not nothing he was meant to be?

"Calm down. I understand how scary this all can be. Abyssal monsters and warring countries are not something anyone should want. There are certainly many reasons to be wary of the gods, those aligned with the pantheon and against it. However, I just want to help you. The world outside of Origins is a lot harsher than it should be. This is the consequence of Origins being secured in a perpetually stable climate and ecosystem. You will certainly die if you do not come in. Once the winter out here passes, we can work on ways of sending you home without ruining your mind," The winged man said, his voice far too gentle. He wasn't getting angry, not when Tommy was insulting him, his home, and the gods. Tommy can still remember his first few nights after leaving the darkness. He had stayed at a temple, and he had been removed from the premises, bloodied and battered, after admitting that he wasn't sure why anyone would praise the gods. It was then that Tommy realized why he should avoid the gods, and anything to do with them, at any cost. Religious fanatics could kill him just as easily as the gods.

"I'd rather die out here than die in there," Tommy admitted sharply. Although he was a notorious liar, he wasn't lying when he said that. Tommy wasn't sure how his body would react to all that divine energy centralized in one place. The pantheon must have thought it would be fine when they gave him his tattoo, but Tommy wasn't keen on trusting them.

Tommy, for once in his miserable life, decided to make the smartest decision. He ran away from the winged man. He didn't want for a response or for the man to ask questions. Tommy ran, his heart pumping as fast as his legs. He made sure to make a lot of winding turns, hoping to throw whoever decided to follow him off his track. It was pointless, Tommy knew, as the early sun filtered through the tree leaves, a reminder that multiple gods were bearing witness to his panicked flight. Tommy couldn't care less as he dove into the cave, rolling to a stop when he realized that he wouldn't be able to stop running without crashing into something. Tommy laid across the dirt floor of his cave home. His hand still tingled, and his legs were burning. His chest heaved, and a million emotions followed him, heavy as the chains he thought he had shed.

—

A long time ago, the sky goddess was bored. She had nothing to paint her skies with. It was just a gaping void of darkness that blanketed the newly formed earth. She grew so upset that she begged the other gods to help her liven up her home. Different gods agreed to help her. The god of fire and lava gifted her with a golden eye, and the god of nature gave her a silver eye. She hung the two stars in the sky, side by side, until the god of time and knowledge showed her how to make a cycle of day and night. The god of shadows and secrets taught her how to make the silver eye fade and grow back every month. The god of creation and life made the stars, and the god of temptation and luck made stars that could move across the sky. The god of war and violence created stories that formed when someone would connect the stars. The goddess of endurance and value created the winds and clouds. The god of the ocean and undying created the rain from the clouds. The goddess of chaos created lightning, and the goddess of entertainment and insanity created the ensuing thunder. The goddess of death and destruction created the snow. The god of healing and sleep taught humans how to appreciate the sky and all its many wonders, and the god of honesty helped spread the stories the Blood God created.

It was one of the few stories that involved every god from the pantheon. It was one of the few stories that involved all the pantheon gods working together to create something beautiful and grand, very different from the war they left in their path when they clashed with the evil gods from the abyssal realms. It was probably the first time the pantheon ever did something together that wasn't fighting.

Tommy used to like that story. Despite his reservation towards the gods, he would always find himself staring at the sky. He particularly liked the night sky, but he supposed that was the instincts forged in his bones instead of his own interest. Whatever the reason, Tommy could stare at the sky for a long time without ever thinking about how the sky goddess was given millions of eyes by her fellow pantheon members.

He wondered if she was looking at him when the goddess of chaos brought down her gift.

Tommy laid on the ground. He could see smoke rising from his body. His clothes were ruined, allowing the cold, winter wind to crash against his skin. Every single one of his nerves were jittering with horrible energy, the electricity and snow mixing together to create polarizing cold and hot effects that made his body shake uncontrollably. His eyes were burned with the brilliant light that had enveloped him, such a stark contrast from the darkness he had crawled out of and knew would someday return to. He wasn't sure why the gods decided they wanted to kill him now. He wondered why it was this brutal. They really should have let the cold kill him. The goddess of chaos didn't need to intervene so painfully, and the goddess of insanity didn't need to laugh so loudly in his ears.

His brain had shut down. He was left with pain and instincts, and those two remaining factors bonded together to remind him about his will to live. He didn't want to go in, but Origins was supposedly warm. They would also have healers or painkillers. He would leave right after he couldn't smell burning flesh anymore. It was going to be alright, he promised himself, he was doing this for his survival. That was it. He wasn't going in because he was scared of the dark, cold, tiny cave that fed into his fears. He wasn't going because the bitter loneliness was clinging to him like a heavy weight that was slowly but surely drowning him in despair. He wasn't going because he missed Wilbur's songs and the winged man's kind smile.

Tommy heaved himself to see feet. Groans escaped his mouth as he stumbled forward. He kept falling down, spending more time sprawled on the ground than walking on his feet. He finally managed to make it to the golden gates that shone despite the darkness of a rainy sky. He pressed his hands against the gold. The bars shimmered brightly, and the tattoo on the back of his hand began to glow in response. Tommy closed his eyes as the light burned his eyes, and he didn't notice when the golden bars disappeared beneath his grasp. He literally fell into Origins.

The difference was made abundantly clear. While the world outside was filled with cold biting winds and pouring knives made from water, Origins was as warm as a pleasant summer day. The grass was soft underneath his stinging cheek. He managed to push himself onto his back. He gazed up at the painfully blue sky. In Origins, there were light blue lines painted across the darker blue, creating thousands of interweaving patterns like the goddess of entertainment had decided to paint the void. Tommy followed one of the patterns with his eyes, noticing how it looked oddly familiar. Tommy felt a smile come to his lips as something rose up in his chest to overcome the loneliness. It was, quite honestly, the exact opposite of that feeling. Tommy realized he was content, and that made his sense of self-preservation shut down.