The Nonpareil wasn’t sure he had ever truly seen emptiness before. Imagining how it could look, sure. When he was alone in a hospital bed, staring at the white ceiling while a shattered leg burned and itched, he recalled wondering about the feeling of nothing inside. What did it look like? Was it small enough to grab and throw out the window? Then, he might once again be able to get along in his life.
Wonder of what such a space would look like returned after Nun. Though his bones were healed this time, Resh's magical BS didn’t do much for the emotional shattering. He retreated to his room and again became acquainted with the view of a white ceiling. That is, until the shadows around him grew teeth and swallowed him whole.
Gwyn couldn’t help but wonder if a truly empty void ought to be like the white ceilings. Yet he knew somewhere in the center where logic ought to flow out that if it were white, it wouldn’t be empty. The same went for black or any other image he could piece together.
Yet, one second, he saw an elf girl leaping to him, with a rush of water reaching out like Poseidon himself also had it out for the poor earthling. The next second, it was empty. Pure emptiness far beyond what Gwyn could have imagined. He felt sick as he looked at nothing. It was all so wrong.
“Am I dead?”
He spoke out loud, finding relief that words still were able to pierce the blistering void of nothing. Did that mean air remained? Or perhaps he only imagined the words carried. “Somebody! Anybody!” Both arms flailed around, and he kicked his legs frantically. Everything moved, but he couldn’t find anything to grab or ground to run on.
The earthling didn’t consider himself to be very smart, but he figured he wasn’t an idiot either. He stopped shouting and settled down. Taking a deep breath, he reached for his pill case, only to find he wasn’t in any clothes. At first, he tried to cover his nakedness, but remembering he was literally nowhere, he sighed and loosed up.
Gwyn closed his eyes so the void wouldn’t detract from his thoughts. Did he die? He didn’t want to think about it. It made his stomach ache and legs tremble just at the mere suggestion. Yet he had to consider it. He was underwater, miles below the surface. He must have drowned.
Did that mean he went to Hell? Or was this a state of oblivion? In either case, Gwyn wasn’t too happy with the idea of having to stay in the same place forever. Even roasting in fire would be better than nothing. He could at least feel something. The earthling wondered if it were Hell, was it the case where the person who died created their own suffering, which in this case would mean a man who was nothing inside would spend eternity in nothing. Would he have to stay surrounded by everything good he put into himself?
Tears began to roll down Gwyn’s face before he realized he even was crying. Eventually, he collapsed to the non-floor and began to wail. The last time he had ever cried so seriously, so full of raw emotion, was probably as a toddler. What could he do? He was alone, surrounded by a vast void of nothing.
What might have been words came between sobs. Gwyn thought he was apologizing to everyone, but if an observer were to appear suddenly, they wouldn’t have been able to make out any words.
Yet Gwyn kept on trying to apologize. He apologized to Fiona for being such a jerk to her and not caring about her trip. He apologized to Odell for not chatting more with him. To Rheba and Harlan for hardly speaking to them. To Hal for thinking the boy was a bit of an asshole. To his family for leaving them behind, presumably to think he was dead.
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He kept going, though name after name. From Resh to Earth, close friends to random acquaintances. Gwyn wasn’t sure why he did or what he was doing. He just kept babbling nonsense in an attempt to cut through the tears. Eventually, even his voice failed. It cracked and sputtered out, leaving him to sob on the non-floor silently.
He gasped for air, suddenly unable to suck enough down, and the misery of near suffocation finally steadied his weeping. The Nonpareil looked back into the void with blurry vision. He took a breath and wiped tears away from his burning eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Gwyn closed his eyes and did his best to accept what came.
In the darkness of closed eyes, with nothing but dead silence all around, he managed to hear a voice from a woman with a sweet, songlike quality. At first, he was sure it was a figment of his imagination but still did his best to focus.
“La la la la.”
He was sure it was a song. What sort of song, it was impossible to say, but the earthling knew at least where there was a song, there ought to be a singer. He wasn’t alone. He opened his eyes and looked around. Or as around as one could do when there was absolutely nothing to look at.
“Hey! Are you out there!” The voice continued to sing as Gwyn shouted. “I’m here, right here!”
It sounded as if it grew louder.
“My name’s Gwyn! Gwyn Black! I need help!”
The voice continued to sing, growing louder with each passing second.
“If you can just let me out of here, I’ll do better! I’ll do better!”
The earthling wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or just doing his best to escape. But he didn’t care either. The voice continued to grow ever louder until he finally realized it was coming from above. Gwyn tried to look up but lost all sense of sight. The voice fell behind him, and something like two soft arms gently wrapped around his chest. Then he felt the sensation of rising. He moved up, all while the voice continued her song. All around, more voices joined in until he was surrounded by a whole chorus. Each sang a different cord combined into perfect harmony. Gwyn smiled. He laughed. He wasn’t sure why, but he had never felt such joy before.
Then, a new voice cut through the choir.
“Drop him off here.” Gwyn felt himself get set down, and the singing continued to move upwards until it couldn’t be heard anymore.
When his sight returned, he was greeted by the scowling blue face of the deceased king. All at once, the joy Gwyn felt was gone, and he returned the king’s scowl with a sneer. No longer was the sight one of emptiness. Instead, the duo stood at the sea floor of Resh’s vibrant ocean. Fish swam around them in a pattern that made it unclear if the creatures could see the duo or just happened to miss them.
“So,” Gwyn said after a long pause. “Is this where I died?” He couldn’t think of any other reason why they would be at the bottom of the ocean.
King Whitlock sighed and rubbed his face.
“If you mean where your body died, it is still kicking, unfortunately. If you mean your soul, it was on life support well before you got in that submarine.”
Gwyn blinked several times. “So, I’m alive?”
“Yes, the hideous creature you call Mina saved you, though had we not intervened, it wouldn’t have mattered.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
King Whitlock shook his head. The dead man turned his back to Gwyn and took a couple of steps away before stopping and waving his hand in a manner that suggested Gwyn should follow.
“Come, you’ve been late for a meeting, so to speak, that will explain much to you.”
“No.”
King Whitlock turned with a surprised look. Perhaps there even was a twinge of anger, but Gwyn didn’t care.
“No?”
“No. I’ve let myself be pushed around too much since getting taken into this world. I’m not just going to follow you because you told me to. I’m done. I’m done with all this. I’m doing things the way I want now.”
The blue king sighed. He scratched at his head before shrugging.
“You must realize I don’t like you and would rather spend my afterlife being stabbed with a million needles into my eyes than catering to your childish tantrums.” The king paused a moment, perhaps to see if Gwyn would bite at anything said, but the Nonpareil wasn’t some simple fish. “I will leave you alone then because I would be told to respect your wishes, but know that you won’t find yourself able to carve a path on your own.”
“Whatever, can I just wake up now? I am realizing I was being stupid before.”
“No, you were smart earlier; you are being stupid now. Either way, off with you. I hate looking at your face.”
Before Gwyn could respond, water suddenly filled his mouth and his lungs. He gasped and clawed at his neck and chest, flailing all around before everything went black.

