Ludwig Karlfeldt
???
---A surge of colors.
---A surge of pain.
---A surge of memories.
---A surge of information,
---The warmth of an embrace.
It's all a storm, a storm that comes with the gradient light, a storm that wipes away the battlefield, the twisted darkness, the curse screaming in your ears and the lost family that had been the source of it all, yes...
For a time, it is overwhelming.
For a time, you lose track of absolutely everything around you.
Succeeding in a moment of desperation, linking your mind up to 'theirs' with a force that Ludwig Karlfeldt should not be able to make manifest in this moment, you arrive in an impossible place, the depths of someone else's consciousness, far below the surface that you normally explore, to the point where your errant mind can make out not just words but images, where the physical world falls away as you lose your conscious connection to it, and your 'reality' becomes this, the cognitive mind, the inner thoughts, the errant memories, yes...
In some ways, this could be called a Dive to the Heart.
A Dive to the Inner Sea.
Or perhaps simply a Dive to the Trauma?
Regardless of it's nature, or how you managed to do it, here you are, and here is...
---This place.
You can remember this place very well...
The feeling is the same as it always was... Perhaps because you know it so well yourself, the cold feeling of the air remains prevalent... It's a dark wind, always was, an invisible malice drifting down the corridor towards you from that room you know so well...
---This isn't the reality.
You know this instinctively, that this is simply the depths of someone else's psyche, and yet...
---It still sends shivers down your spine...
Still, while you can no longer reach your real form, your body remains to you as an avatar of sorts inside this psyche... In comparison to the agony you had felt before coming here, this 'thought form' body is a paradise, a simple projection of your mind that can't actually feel anything, that only exists for the purpose of making it possible for you to 'operate' inside of LUCID's thoughts, but...
While it is there... It is also fading...
In and out, like a shadow being cast on the wall by a dying flame...
---In the end, your life is probably still tied to your real physical form... Regardless of whether or not you can feel it now, the reality of your existence is one that lies a step away from death, when it ceases, you may just cease as well, even separate from it as you are, but...
"..."
...Even as you contemplate this, footsteps appear inside this place.
Slow and confident, they appear alongside the ringing of distant bells... The bells atop the Karlfeldt mansion, those that ring out every hour on the hour, counting down the time, but right now...
It feels more like funeral bells.
Church bells.
Bells to announce the coming of the reaper, and alongside this, that approaching person, someone who should not be real -and thus should not be able to acknowledge you inside the depths of a memory...
Looks you right in the eyes as she passes you by, heading for that door: