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[ . T H E . D R E A M . ]
When he opens his eyes, all he sees is the uninterrupted blinking of white, amber, and crimson lights and the distant humming that resembled a kind of strange and comforting melody.
He looks closer, and a ray of tangerine flashes before him, and suddenly he can actually understand the relentless, endless stream of lights. They were trying to tell him something, something of utmost importance, something no one else but he can know. He watches the never-ending flicker of bright, blinding lights, listens more closely, and suddenly information invades his brain, gigabytes of data within a second, telling him of things that have passed and things yet to come, and yet he doesn't feel overwhelmed at all.
On the contrary, he felt secure. Calm. Unperturbed.
Powerful.
A flash of light, and suddenly he is under the light of the moon, silently watching a person with his back turned to him. He calls out a name, and the person whirls around, eyes narrowed and gun raised, and then suddenly the person's eyes grow wide.
And he finds himself staring at an exact replica of himself, eyes a dark shade of crimson, hair a distinct shade of violet, skin eerily pale under the light of the full moon.
And again, he doesn't feel alarmed, as if he knew this was coming, as if he already knew the existence of this person who looks completely like him.
The person demands who he is, and he gives out his name. The color drains from the person's face as a sense of horrid realization dawns on him.
And he feels a smirk forming on his lips, as he watches his reflection back up, hands trembling, struggling to keep a dignified stance but failing. Everything seems so highly... amusing.
A second later, and he's standing behind the person. His replica whirls around, but in the moment he gets around to doing that, he is gone, reappearing right beside him. His imitation gasps in surprise.
He whispers into his duplicate's ear. The sly, confident smile never leaves his face.
How fun.