It's not safe. Our steps echoing from the dark, cool wind blowing, howling, like a lonesome grim wolf stranger.. I don't feel the air I'm stepping through. I don't feel my friends, lost in that infinite reflections of broken, sharpened mirrors, and I can't - I can't remember how to think about those days. It's strange, odd somehow. I don't...



Shadow cast over my headgear, my voice trailing off, i stay.

I will be there. For you.