A searing, endless brilliance stretches in every direction. The pain of it is unavoidable, like pupils bare to the sun.
Once every eternity, it pulses. Magnesium-magma veins seep in for brief moments, giving way once more to inchoate light.
With each pulse, the bonfire rivers crackle and grow. The formations change, a message reaching through the empty channel. An unknown mental signature.
An emotion forms, the feeling of a child toward fire after having felt its burn. The pulsing gains wild velocity, a sense of familiarity growing ever nearer. The heat of a gaze on one’s back; ancient thoughts in living whispers, flickering. Getting warmer.
Then like a skull split, a ribcage opening, the scene unfolds and begins to make sense. Faces like her own, and the damning eyes of others all around.
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