[center][h3][sub][sub][color=darkorange][i]"Come now, wind. Take me to the planet's edge."[/i][/color][/sub][/sub][/h3][/center]

The waters were still, here, if only for the moment. Free from the confines of reality, he wandered beneath the sky, gazing up to the intermingling hues of cream and orange and magenta. Ripples drifted out from beneath his feet as they made contact with the otherwise placid surface, and he could feel the coolness between his toes. He couldn't help but smile. Shakily, he raised his arms out in front of him and they felt heavy, more so than the other times he found himself here. As his fingers danced about, tracing invisible loops through the air, the area past where he walked began to quake.

Small structures began to rise through the waters—statues that mimicked styles and cultures of the past, mimicked familiar faces he could, at once, barely recognize and hardly forget. Beyond them, small buildings resembling places he used to roam; better times in life where memories remained fuzzy at best and drowned in static at worst. Aimlessly, he shambled across the waters until he came into contact with a statue taller than himself. The face bore a striking resemblance to her. He wrapped his arms around the base and buried his face into the marble cloth that encircled her body, shaking silently as he started to weep.

Across the walkway, an old woman—a local shopkeeper and mother of two—watched a ragged, disheveled, clearly disturbed husk of black denim and blue nylon stumbling throughout the open plaza, somehow narrowly missing multiple chairs and tables. His arms raised out in front of him, fingers waggling in nondescript motions. As the throngs of passersby weaved through each other on the pedestrian path, their silhouettes masked his presence for only a few seconds before he reappeared again, his body slumped against a broken pillar with his arms wrapped around its base. His body quietly trembled in the distance, and she couldn't help but feel a slight sympathy for him.

The statue to which he gripped so tightly started to crumble and turn to dust, streams of marble residue pouring into his hands. Frantically, he tried to slap them back onto the statue—at this point, now half a body—only to physically recoil and plead in hushed tones when they failed to stick and ended up slipping into the water, clouding the once clear liquid. He bowed repeatedly, as if praying to the statue itself, but when he rose for the final time, the statue was gone, replaced with the sound of a gentle breeze. His arms fell to his sides and he stared across the realm and into the horizon, letting a tear stream down a pock-marked cheek. The sky above and the shallow, endless pool below started to fade from his sight, a landscape of gray, intermittent neon light, and scanlines returning to his senses, complete with the stench of garbage, gas, and smoke.

He lingered for a period of minutes before clambering to his feet, using the pillar to brace himself so he could take a few seconds to stabilize. His body ached all over, likely a result of falling over multiple obstacles or the occasional conflict with another transient. With a lengthy sigh, he positioned himself upright and took note of the scenery around him. He found himself in an empty plaza, rusted steel chairs and tables strewn about. Several feet away, a long barricade separated the plaza from a wide walkway, with open gaps interspersed throughout. The pedestrian traffic sped past in both directions, shadows obscuring faces. He touched his fingers to the composite mask upon his face, feeling the fringes of scars and melted skin. In that moment, he felt akin to the anonymous travelers.

Beyond them, an old woman leaned on a railing that lined the stairs leading up to the building in front of which she stood. As he noticed her, she likely watched the darkness beneath his hood, searching for something to recognize. They'd acknowledge each other with the subtlest of motions before she shook her head and turned to enter the building. [color=darkorange][i]Typical,[/i][/color] he thought to himself as he exited the plaza, lumbering toward his home. He passed by the same lit landmarks, using them as signs to direct himself back to the alleyway. Though the outskirts of Korven were still relatively new to him, the signs and buildings associated with them had already become well-known enough for him to reliably use them for guidance—a neon Polaris, he once contemplated.

When he arrived at the alleyway, home to his bed of cardboard and torn tarp, a shadowy figure awaited him. He felt no sense of fear, walking past them and seating himself on the ground, the ache of his muscles brought to the forefront yet again.

[color=darkorchid]"Senna,"[/color] the shadow uttered, kneeling down to meet the homeless man at eye level.

[color=darkorange]"Lucid,"[/color] Senna replied, slight traces of wind playing with the frayed fibers of the cloth beneath his hood.

The figure, seemingly referred to as 'Lucid', laughed and rested a gloved hand on Senna's shoulder. [color=darkviolet]"It's been a while since we last talked. How have you been?"[/color]

Senna lifted a heavy arm to brush away Lucid's hand before letting it drop into his lap. His breathing was labored, a result of having little food to sustain him. [color=darkorange]"If you're looking for me to buy, I don't have anything for you. Just leave me alone."[/color]

[color=darkviolet]"Nonsense,"[/color] Lucid replied, his voice dripping with malcontent. [color=darkviolet]"You could always do what you do best; take a trip to the medical center, get a few augments, let them poke at your brain for a little while, yeah? You did it before, remember?"[/color] Met with silence, Lucid rose to his feet and stepped back into the openness of the alleyway, his back turned to the homeless man. [color=darkviolet]"But, I suppose that was during a time where you were desperate to leave your world behind, wasn't it? Back when it came crashing down around you. Back when they vanished."[/color]

An empty can landed near his feet, clanging across the ground until it hit the corrugated aluminum wall. Lucid laughed again.

[color=darkviolet]"Guess that period of your life hasn't ended just yet."[/color]

[color=darkorange]"Leave, Lucid,"[/color] Senna demanded, his voice hoarse. [color=darkorange]"I don't have the money to buy any HALOs. Your presence here is a mockery."[/color]

[color=darkviolet]"Tell you what, Sen,"[/color] Lucid countered as he slowly wheeled around to face Senna, clearly refusing his request. He moved back to Senna's area and knelt down before him once more, reaching into a pocket inside his leather jacket and producing a small, flat chip in his hand before continuing. [color=darkviolet]"I'll let you have one HALO, for free, so you can escape—"[/color]

Lucid flicked the top of Senna's hood, to which the latter was too exhausted to retaliate. [color=darkviolet]"—back into whatever little fantasy world you cooked up in that broken brain of yours. In turn, when you finally get enough money to your name, you find me, and you pay me. Consider it an advancement on our... unspoken agreement. Now, if you take this, and you can't come up with the cash, you won't have to find me, because I'll find you, and when I do... you will pay what you owe. Now, if I know you as well as I do, which I'd like to think is pretty well, you're going to take this deal, because HALOs are the only reason you haven't offed yourself yet, and you'd rather escape into some strange delusion than face reality head-on and deal with it like a man, so..."[/color]

He waved his hand side to side in front of Senna, the tiny metal pieces of the chip glinting in the ruby neon light.

[color=darkviolet]"...what's it gonna be?"[/color]