Chapter Text
Hugs seemed nice.
They felt warm, he thought.
Now that he touched on it, he realized he had never been hugged. Well, until now.
Until he found himself bleeding, sobbing into the arms of a blurred figure, black and red wings resting on either side, blood seeping through his shirt. The room was enveloped in silence, broken only by the faint sound of muffled sobs. A gentle warmth surrounded him, soothing his frayed nerves for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
Hugs were meant to be suffocating, engulfing a person—drowning them. They kept them grounded, not loose, not soft.
Clouds swirled and coiled around him like eerie tendrils of smoke, their heat searing against skin that had never felt such intensity. Yet, he felt indifferent; he recognized this twisted realm—more accurately, this haunting nightmare. His vast, feathered wings twitched restlessly behind him, a reminder of the weight they carried. Eclipse let out a deep, weary sigh, surrendering to the inevitable. Might as well savor the depths of this shadowy void, he mused.
He gazed upward, locking onto the figure hovering above him. Its features were obscured, yet somehow, the absence of eyes seemed to radiate a strange warmth—null and void.
He was tired.
Tired of the endless cycle of slumber, weary of the specters that drifted in and out of his dreams, and exhausted by the tangled mysteries that shrouded his existence.
What he truly craved was a fleeting moment of peace—a solitary instant where he could escape the chaos surrounding him.
The artificial body heat enveloped him like a suffocating shroud, hot and relentless. The hands that had once held him with tenderness transformed into grips of desperation, squeezing tighter as if intent on extracting his very soul. Panic surged within him, and he coughed violently, the sound echoing through the turmoil. His fingers clawed at anything within reach, desperate to find a lifeline—a way to wake up.
Behind him, the majesty of ashen black wings crumpled into nothingness, dissolving into a flurry of ashes as they were devoured by a sudden, consuming blaze. The purplish flames danced with an eerie beauty, crackling and spiraling upward, leaving nothing but whispers of smoke in their wake.
Thick, acrid smoke enveloped Eclipse, obscuring his vision and creating an oppressive haze that clung to his skin. Panic welled up inside as he repeated to himself, “This is just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.” Each labored gasp for air transformed into high-pitched, desperate chirps that pierced the suffocating stillness. Glancing to his side, he saw an enormous pair of wings—vibrant yet now reduced to a charred and decaying ruin—sprawled helplessly across the ground.
Flames spread from the crumbled wings up his arms, burning through open wounds. Yet, he didn’t feel a thing. The mock pain had been erased by fear, and reality—filled with clouds and smoke—dissolved into a slightly warmer atmosphere.
Eclipse's wings, large and iridescent, were raised and tense, as if poised to take flight from an invisible danger lingering in the air. Finally dropping to his sides, they sagged with exhaustion. He expelled a long, shuddering breath, one he hadn’t realized he had been holding, feeling the tension slowly seep from his muscles.
Right, a dream.
A horrifyingly different dream than usual.
He staggered to his feet as his vision unblurred, meeting blue-green eyes.
“...another minute perhaps? I won't pry.”
“I’m sorry.”