CHAPTER SIX
He walked along a desolate road that wound its way through a dead valley. The dry grass, yellows and browns, crunched beneath his feet. In the distance, smoke rose lazily into the sky. He didn’t know where he was; he only knew he had to get somewhere he couldn’t remember.
He felt nothing. His muscles did not tire; his skin did not sweat; he was neither hot nor cold. He walked for what seemed like days, though he could not tell the passage of time. He did not see a sun or a moon in the sky, though the atmosphere seemed to always be illuminated.
After an eternity, he drew close to the source of the smoke. An abandoned town. Most the buildings were blackened husks. The smoke was filtering up into the air from the chimney of the only intact building. He walked to the building an
