[@Polybius] [@Pyromaniacwolf] [@DocRock] [@Voltus_Ventus][hr][h3]Prelude[/h3]"The reward received for this triumph is meager at best but you have succeeded in some element now. Within the mind's eye you conceptualize hands but the image continues to twist and turn, your thoughts still tugging away at you in a million fragmentary directions. Each effort to wrangle them together is a challenge yet you conceive an idea of what your hands might well be. They are worked, dirty things, yet in the absence of all else that is the deep dark they are perhaps the most divine images you have seen. Yes, these [i]could[/i] be your hands, aged and tanned."

"Although the seething black hasn't the same appreciation and soon the shadows creep over them once more. Before the speed of thought they are gone but now at least you know them to be there. Who else, what else might you be? Grasping at the underpinnings of memory, you continue the endeavor to visualize yourself. Perhaps your form was that of a farmhand? Mayhap that of a sailor? Or might it have been a machinist? All these bits, still none whole, tear back against the urge to steady them. More thought is needed, urgently, swiftly, as the seductress' song of nullification was all this limbo had."