Work Text:
The world is cold upon release from the liminal nothing. A destination with no true end. Transitional period for transitional period. The great beastly deer of metal make meekly lifts his majestic head and antlers to the sky to look to the stars.
The nothingness between them. Are then in transition too?
Nemesis tromps the ground with a hoof looking down to the snow under him. The cold black ink to the white empty cold.
Does warmth exist in this world? Does it exist at all?
It is his destination? To find the warm around him.
He moves forward legs buckling under his own weight. Crashing and breaking the snowy trees beside him.
He vents out his open mouth, clearing the way. The breath visible, warmth exists within. He struggles to straighten his body back to his legs.
Can a mechanical being like him exist with such flimsy limbs… He feels as though there is more to this body.
He moves, finally like a newborn finding footing he realizes where his weight needs to be adjusted. Trouncing the ground as purpose meets his mind.
He was born long before this, born time and time eternal. Broken, snapped and beaten into submission.
Majestic beast as himself the subservient of a deity beyond. Hot and blinding. The first Warmth and Light he’d ever truly understood.
Even the Sun that rises in his ever journey could not compare. He must find that phosphorescent being, the thaw of life once more. The warmth that matches his ventilated air.
That is his destination.