You're in the fog, something wrapped around your middle. The fog burns your eyes. You're in agonizing pain. Your lungs feel heavier and heavier the more you breathe.

I fight to get away from whatever is wrapped around me, crying out in pain as I do so.

Maybe you should stop struggling. Maybe it'll all be okay.

No, I need to fucking get out of here! This- this isn't okay, it fucking hurts and I can't fucking breathe.

But you can breathe. Maybe it's easier to breathe, like this, with someone else breathing for you.

I need to get back to my friends, I can't fucking stay in here.

Yes. You should get back to your friends and show them how great it is in here.

I struggle against whatever's holding me once again, but everything is hurting, I can't fucking get away from it.

Your vision slowly goes dark. Maybe this isn't so bad. You feel a hand press over your eyes and you can't see. The tendril releases you and you fall to the ground inside the fog limply.

Can I move at all?

You stand up and start walking out of the fog.

Am I still not able to see?

You still can't see. But you need to find her. You need to help her.

Who? Who do I need to help?

You don't know. Her. You need to help her.

I need to help her. I keep walking out of the fog.

You walk towards her. You can't see with your eyes, but you can see more clearly than you've ever seen before.

Can I see her?

You can see her. She's so far away.

I keep walking towards her, I need to get to her, I need to help her.

Do you believe in her? What an odd question.
Well? Do you?

Do I believe in her? I don't know who she is, but I need to help her, right?

Do you believe in me?

Well, who are you?

Do you believe in me? Yes or no.

Yes.

A hand touches the back of your head and you feel warm again, only now realizing that you had been freezing cold. Your eyesight slowly returns, and you can control yourself again. The first thing you do is keel over and cough up all of the smoke in your lungs.

I sit there for a moment, arms wrapped tightly around myself and coughing, before I turn to see who had touched my head.

Cashel stands there, still blindfolded. The fog is far behind him. "Are you alright?" There's a myriad of soldiers in front of you as well. It seems that most of the army drew back here.

"I- Yeah, I'm fine." I look back at the fog, and then at Cashel. "What the fuck was that?"

"Katanalosi has many ways of gathering followers. That is one of them." He glances back. A row of shots hit the street in front of you, spraying all of you with asphalt pieces.

I get to my feet as fast as I can, pulling out my saber. I can ask more about that later, right now there's more immediate threats to worry about.

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