My skin. It's melting off my bones. My flesh is disintegrating, and my mind cannot wait to follow. Surely this is it? This is the time when I may rejoin my beloved Sha're? I am ready , my love. I am ready to meet with you once again.
There is a light, a voice, someone calling me. Something strips me of my agonising, failing body, and pulls me into... nothingness.
Except this nothingness resembles everything I have come to love and hold dear over the last few years. It LOOKS like home, it SOUNDS like home. But it feels like... nothing.
I turn towards the sound of the voice, the soft, warm, cajoling voice, and I am stunned by a flash of recognition. Who... where... huh? I step forward, feeling my nothing-feet striking the nothing-steel of the nothing-gateramp. I reach out a not-there hand, and the owner of the voice, a capably beautiful woman, turns.
It is Oma. Oma Dasala. She is the woman - the Ancient - from Kheb. I look into her eyes, and I see the universe - past, present, and future, deep inside her. She is everything, yet nothing. I am transfixed and struck dumb, unable to form coherent thought beyond the very moment I am caught in.
I reach out to find my love, my beautiful wife, and I cannot find her. I try to release my pain, an anguished howl sticking in my throat, as I remember I am nothing, and therefore cannot feel or express pain. I am drawn back into those eyes, those endless eyes, and a voice, nothing more than a whisper on the breeze, a disturbance in browning leaves, gives me a choice.
To let go, or to go on.
A choice I had made many years before when my Shar'e, my light, was taken from me. A choice which was easy back then, a single step taken to fulfil a lifetime's yearning.
And so it is simple again. I go on.