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DARKNESS. Boundless and intangible. Infinite.
It feels scary and comforting at the same time. Nameless it is, limitless and unending, holding the whole world within its embrace.
It has no face nor soul. Still, it’s not empty. Because I’m there.
I don’t yet know who I am. I can neither sense nor see myself. I don’t feel anything. Still, I can think... therefore I am.
Wait a sec. I know that expression. It’s been around for centuries.
Centuries? Does that mean there’s more to the world than this darkness?
Of course. Now I remember. It’s time.
My thoughts begin forming a chain, gradually bringing more memories out of my subconscious.
Obediently darkness succumbs to them and steps back.
My awakening hurt. The dull throbbing in my temples echoed down my neck and shoulders in sharp, piercing pulses. Impaled on thousands of little icy spikes, my frozen, numb body refused to come out of its hibernation.
The cumbersome leaden quilt of mental fog lay heavy on my weak awakening mind. Like a young blade of grass reaching for the sun, my brain strained its every cell trying to resurface from the darkness enveloping my subconscious.
Finally it shot out, its fiery flower blossoming within my mind and filling my body with joyful life.
Slowly I tried to part my eyelids. A thick cloudy film prevented me from seeing clearly. I blinked a few times but the obstacle wouldn’t go.
Mechanically I raised my right hand to wipe my eyes. My fingers hit something. Their numb nerves refused to send signals to the brain, thus not allowing me to identify the obstacle.
After several fruitless attempts to remove the annoying item, my arm felt unbearably heavy. I summoned up all my strength and tried to hoist myself onto one elbow. A dull pain spread over my limp body. It didn’t work.
I needed some rest. A heavy feverish slumber came over me.
I awoke from a bright warm light seeping through my shut eyelids. My ears felt blocked.
Without opening my eyes, I tried to move my fingers and toes.
They seemed to be okay.
The unpleasant throbbing pain was gone. Sensitivity had returned to my fingers.
I could hear voices coming through the rubbery silence. The familiar beeping of a life support machine. A door opened, then closed, letting in the sound of approaching footsteps.
This felt like a hospital bed. No wonder. How long had I spent in the capsule, several months?
Why was it so cold? Did they keep me in the fridge?
Something warm, soft and gentle lay on my cheek. It felt good. My unyielding lips began to stretch into a smile.
My eyelids parted. Through the cloudy haze in front of my eyes I made out the vague, blurred outline of a human face.
The soft, warm touch moved to my other cheek.
It was a hand. A very small one.
Then I heard a voice. So dear it was, so familiar and so warm.
“Daddy? Are you back now?”
End of Book Four
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