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ALL OF TIME INSIDE ONE WOUND!
https://suno.com/s/hGFopqZ6Tias5szW
A boot behind skull.
A hand pulling.
Another hand screaming.
Not him.
The blade climbed.
Teeth split under the pressure. The roof of the mouth opened. Bone yielded with a wet interior sound no living thing should ever hear from inside itself.
The skull opened.
The heart stopped.
The body emptied.
Death was not darkness. Darkness would have been somewhere to go. This was every signal vanishing at once—the blood, the nerves, the heat, the little electrical insistence by which a body keeps saying I am here.
Then it stopped saying it.
I died inside him.
The universe noticed and the light turned red.
No thunder.
Thunder needs distance.
No flash.
Light needs time.
Only weight.
It arrived without direction. Not above. Not below. Everywhere pressing inward at once, compressing a thing without flesh until I felt ribs I did not possess buckle around lungs I had never owned.
The whole cosmos flinched.
All of history leaned upon the missing second. Every age above it. Every consequence beyond it. An infinite structure discovering that its first stone had been pulled free—and placing all its weight upon the hole.
Upon me.
The second deepened.
Blood stopped falling.
Dust stopped turning.
Breath lost sequence.
The killer doubled. She stood before herself and behind herself, one body still pulling, another already finished, another never having raised the knife. Her outlines crushed together and refused to agree.
The golden corpse breathed.
The golden corpse rotted.
The golden corpse whitened.
Flesh loosened from its anchors. Eyes collapsed inward. Teeth fell from gums that became dust before they struck the tongue. Bone yellowed through centuries, powdered, and sank into earth that had not yet formed beneath him.
Powder became soil.
Soil became root.
Root became forest.
Forest became coal.
Coal became fire.
All between heartbeats.
A planet cracked.
Oceans stood upright along the wound, walls of water staring into the exposed mantle. Continents folded. Mountains inverted. Cities slid room through room until every cradle occupied a grave and every grave opened beneath an unborn child.
Another planet gathered.
Dust found gravity. Stone found water. Water found blood. Life climbed out of heat, learned hunger, learned fear, learned names, and buried those names beneath civilizations that rose too quickly to remember building themselves.
Children became ancestors.
Ancestors became fossils.
Fossils lost to time.
A cloud tightened.
Pressure found pressure. Matter crushed inward until its own weight became intolerable and a sun was born.
Blue. White. Yellow. Red.
Its whole life struck me at once. Billions of years compacted into a pressure behind the eyes I did not have. Fusion. Expansion. Hunger. The slow poisoning of the heart with heavier things.
Worlds warmed.
Worlds flowered.
Worlds burned.
Worlds were swallowed.
The sun collapsed.
A supernova screamed.
Not sound. Force. A stellar body throwing itself outward so violently that distance became pain. Iron crossed darkness. Gold crossed darkness. The substance of bone and blade and blood crossed darkness.
The star became absence.
Light bent downward.
Light did not return.
Galaxies struck. Black holes circled. Space tightened beneath them until the fabric of distance rang like a sheet of metal too large for creation to hold.
The void. The sound. Its eyes were not visible, but I felt them, two points of attention that did not burn and did not bite like the emptiness.
The vibration passed through me.
I compressed.
I stretched.
I became thinner than thought and heavier than worlds.
All of time… Inside one wound.
The mother lived.
The mother died.
The mother waited unborn.
The son died once.
The son died twice.
The shadow died first.
Beneath the world: old stone. polished stone. remembering stone. The cavern opened—not elsewhere, not later, but inside the same impossible instant. Distance collapsed. Ages touched. The battlefield and the buried temple occupied one wound.
The Red waited.
Immense. Still. Buried. Watching.
Its light passed through stone as though matter were only a suggestion. It filled the cavern without traveling. It pressed against every surface and revealed no source, only presence.
I knew it. I had never seen it. I remembered it somehow.
A black line appeared across the Red.
Thin as hair. Thin as steel. Thin as an error.
For one instant the sphere held itself together around the line. The pressure inside it gathered. The cavern groaned. Every atom seemed to brace against a decision too large for matter.
And the Red cracked.
THE RED CRACKED
The break entered me. The break entered all things.
I felt it without skin: a division driven through the center of awareness, separating thought from the thing thinking it. One half of me fell toward a past I had never lived. The other remained trapped inside a corpse that had died too soon.
The cavern divided.
The planet divided.
The heavens divided.
Cause left effect.
Wounds lost weapons.
Scars lost skin.
Shadows lost bodies.
The crack ran backward.
Through sleeping stone.
Through living mountain.
Through unborn refuge.
I saw warmth before I had ever been cold. I felt the slow ribs of something ancient before I had ever crawled beneath them. I remembered shelter from a life still millions of years ahead of me. IT WAS A LIVING MOUNTAIN. IT WAS A LIVING MOUNTAIN. IT W..s..MOUNTA… I hovered at the edge of that presence and felt myself thin, stretched, almost blown apart by the contrast. The BROKEN RED behind me. The BROKEN LIVING MOUNTAIN before me. Between them: me, a trembling absence with a mind like a raw nerve.
Through nameless hunger.
Through ancient war.
Through the hand.
Something inside screamed.
It was the universe.
The universe screamed.
All of it. All things. The wind screamed. The particles screamed.
Not dying.
Unhappening.
The scream had no voice because the voice was being removed from history. Memory tore loose from memory. Hosts emptied backward. Victories closed. Hatred returned unused to the hearts that would have carried it.
A million years collapsed.
Toward murdered birth.
It did not know.
I did.
Not in words.
Words need sequence.
I knew through pressure. Through the crushing certainty of absence approaching from both directions. I knew because its past was closing around my future like jaws.
I knew the hole.
I was the hole.
I died too early.
Every sun guttered.
Every world cooled.
Every particle loosened.
Every particle shattered.
The bonds holding matter together gave way. Form became permission withdrawn. The universe thinned into cold so complete there was nothing left to feel it.
No stars.
No stone.
No blade.
No body.
No me.
Only the crack.
Only forever.
Beyond it:
Warmth.
Breath.
Shadow.
Shelter.
The living mountain.
Scales, though I did not yet know that word, layered over mass. Coils stacked upon coils, a living architecture resting in the shattered dark, as if the dark had been made for it. Breath moved through him in slow tides, pulling the broken timeline’s stale air into order and pushing it back into the emptiness.
Home.
The word struck harder than the ending. There was no home. All of reality, time and space, was now gone.
Then reality panicked.
THE UNIVERSE PANICKED THE UNIVERSE FLINCHED AN ERROR HAS OCCURRED
AN ERROR MUST BE CORRECTED
Darkness birthed stars. Supernovas swallowed their fire. Their expanding violence halted, trembled, and dragged itself backward across the void.
Gold fled blood.
Iron fled worlds.
Red suns shrank. Dead planets tore themselves from stellar throats and returned to their orbits still burning. Oceans descended from steam. Continents unfolded from their graves.
Smoke became forest.
Forest became seed.
Seed became soil.
Dust gathered.
Bone clothed itself.
Rot became flesh.
Flesh became breath.
I felt the body rebuild around me. A cage assembling at impossible speed. Marrow flooded hollow bone. Nerves stitched themselves through darkness. Blood forced heat back into every place death had emptied.
Graves returned names.
Screams returned air.
Words returned mouths.
The planet closed.
The cavern closed.
The black line narrowed.
The Red became whole.
THE RED BECAME WHOLE
The halves struck together with the pressure of all creation correcting a single letter. The impact had no sound. It passed through me as law.
Blood climbed home.
Bone sealed.
The heart resumed.
The second withdrew.
Iron between teeth.
A boot behind bone.
A hand pulling.
Another hand screaming.
Not him.
The elbow moved.
The blade turned.
The body lived.
Noise returned.
Metal.
Impact.
Rage.
The fight continued.
No planet broke.
No body rotted.
No sun was born.
No sun exploded.
The Red never cracked.
THE RED DOES NOT CRACK
The universe made no error.
REALITY DOES NOT ERROR
He forgot dying.
She forgot killing.
The darkness forgot why.
I remembered no sequence. No knife. No face. Memory requires time, and time had been crushed too tightly to hold one.
But pressure remained.
A compression in the shape of everything.
I remembered weight.
I remembered red.
I remembered warmth beyond the crack.
I remembered the living mountain.
The moment lasted forever.
The moment never happened, but I have fallen toward it ever since.
The battle continued.
<aside>
Standard: Reverie I Reverie II Reverie III Reverie IV Reverie V Reverie VII Reverie VIII Reverie X Reverie XI Reverie XII Reverie XIV Reverie XVII Reverie XVIII Reverie XIX
Special: Reverie VI - Entaxis Reverie IX - Parataxis Reverie XIII - Exotaxis Reverie XV - Positive Scototaxis Reverie XVI - Negative Scototaxis Reverie XX - Palintaxis
</aside>