• He awoke in a cold sweat. Another nightmare. The same nightmare. The same troubled feeling as he awoke. The same feeling that He felt before the nightmare was a reverie. He reached under his pillow. The knife was still their. Good. The small room was quiet. Still night time. He quickly sat up, and looked around his pathetic housing. A small room with a single window no bigger than a watermelon. A room so small it could only hold the undersized bed, and a single chair, currently riddled with his gear, and his belongings. The door was simply a large slab of stone. The stone room had to be fortified so he could sleep soundly. Though his nightmare forbid it...

    A loud cracking noise broke through the silence like a deafening roar. He looked towards the single stone slab blocking the doorway, which was now two. Quickly he lunged forward with his knife in hand. As the stone slabs fell to the sides, a shadowed figure entered. Both clashed, both with knife in hand.

    The shadowed figure lunged and grabbed him by the throat. He began to squeeze tighter and tighter, but stopped. The figure stepped forward out of the darkness revealing a black helm. The helm itself did not cover it's mouth, which bore a sharp grin from ear to ear.

    "For someone who becomes omnipotent later in his life, your pretty pathetic. Let us talk..."