A wanderer. A guest. May I formally welcome you!

Oh, but of course what is an introduction without a story to tell alongside it?

You may refer to me as The Dreamer, or any of my several aliases. Who's to say at the end which name was the most important?

Regardless, the story. Yes, the story you came here to perceive.

I am unsure exactly where it all began to falter, but I can recall where it began.

I came to awaken in the midst of a terrible storm, unrelenting torture from the torrential rains. They say I must have done something terrible to end up in a place such as this. Others are not even sure if such a place even existed to begin with.

Some say I was born from it, others say I was born into it.

The only constant I knew was it. The egg.

The egg I see as a symbol, of life and rebirth. Of an infinite opportunity spiraling into the depths of reality's delicate weaves.

It granted me power to overcome, but at the dangers of it overtaking myself should I be too careless. As long as I was able to wake again, I could hone this skill.

I do not know if the egg was a gift, or something irrefutably intertwined with my soul. I found it more to be the latter in those times.

What mattered is that I eventually happened upon an ancient place. Rumors from non-existent beings, devoid of the horror that surface life implied.

As I neared it, could I say it was in my very nature as well to continue? A sick curiosity? An innate part of me that would have always led me here?

I stepped into the rusted pond, with fear crossed on my heart. An egg to reassure it.

If this was just another dead end the egg could always provide a way through. To brute force any problem I had.

But what came of my adventure into the depths of the Earth would prove much more than the egg could provide.

Or perhaps, it was the sole thing that provided me the clarity I needed to escape.

As we dissolved, surrogate mother and Scrhodinger's child.

It grew bright.

And then grew brighter.

Brighter than bright.

Brighter, brighter, brighter, brighter-

I was going blind.

.Where was I in this story?

Oh yes, of course the repercussions of my actions were soon upon me. As if every version of myself had scattered in the perfect reflection.

An endless hall of mirrors! It was frighting as it was beautiful.

And I realized, as I moved my hand. In every reflection they moved perfectly. I was. arguably whole.

Yet still, as my hand moved. I noticed it. The way things subtly shifted. The breeze off of my fingertips would brush a piece of Earth off it's axis.

And I felt it. Despite the infinite me's, I could process and feel every possibility. It was a gift I rationalized the egg gave to me.

My gift. It was important. Suddenly, I as this once insignificant toy to the puppeteers and cruel monsters, I could think and process what had happened. And what will happen.

I saw it. In the reflections, a slight off-hue that stuck out hideously. Something noticed I too had noticed it. It was the closest I could come to describing direct eye contact with the lack of eyes.

It was. It was green.

How oddly familiar.