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Chapter 42

Terribly alone was the way Derrl felt, trapped in the vast chaotic emptiness of his gibbering mind. All was in motion, excepting him, his entire world was vast swirling images of barely recognizable patterns as they rumbled past. As their chaotic paths changed and altered, following no logic, it was a wonder that no one of them collided, though it seemed that they came impossibly close. The shapes came closer, even, to colliding with Derrl than they did with themselves. But he was locked in place, there was no way to move, no way to control his actions, no way to avoid the hulking masses. He could only pray that they would not hit him.

As he concentrated more on the nearer passing masses of patterns, he could make out a figure, sitting cross-legged in the center. The masses forming a spherical cage of light and lines around him, or her, or it even. Another of these huge rumbling cages of the netherworld of his mind rumbled impossibly close to him. As it moved past, he got one clear look into the center of the whirling object, and found himself staring back at him. His mind had been conquered, and divided, chained as it were, separate from one another, but close enough that the possibility of joining together the divided pieces was so tantalizing that it drove the mind insane.

The gap between the prisons was empty, but full of some unimaginable power. As he stared at it, hoping for some comprehension of it's nature, a loud, rumbling, grinding sound reached his ears, though he could not even know if he had any just then. I caught his attention and held it.

As his attention focused, he directed his sight to the direction from which the stone like grinding emanated. Dead center in his field of view was a rapidly solidifying, but rolling mass of runes, that grew larger as the sound grew. It expanded, and he began to make out patterns that looked like gears, the way they interacted with their neighbouring runes and caused them to move also. As it moved, it picked up speed, colliding with, and devastating the comparatively insubstantial cages that imprisoned his mind. With each cage it destroyed it pulsed, and grew larger. It fed off the destruction of the barriers in Derrl's mind. It grew in leaps and bounds, it now often took out two or more of the mystical cells at a time, making it grow only that much faster. As it descended on Derrl, he was reminded of a sight he had once seen, when standing perhaps thirty feet away from the door of a burning building, the door has blown out, providing a route of escape for a roiling ball of flame that had spewed fifteen feet out straight out the door at Derrl. The sheer force behind that fireball had been apparent and was akin to what he felt now. However, the ball of flame had receded, this ball of destruction was not receding, it was gaining speed and would soon cross the remaining space between it and him.

This massive orb had crossed the gap and collision was imminent. As it had moved along smashing the cells, it had picked up their prisoners, and all now rode in the center of the mass. He was the only one still in a cage of runes. The orb struck the cage, shattering it in a horrific howl of destruction, and slammed full force into Derrl. His mind was struck down by the sheer massive force of the mental impact as his mind was recompiled, not piece by piece, but pureed and put as if into a gelatine mould of sorts. As he was struck by the roiling mass, he was momentarily aware of his surroundings, of the room, the bed, immediately after which he choked on the blood which was seeping out of his nose, and sliding down his throat, and was dragged into unconsciousness, true unconsciousness.

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