Spade gasps, nearly forcing him self out of bed. For how long would these nightmares go on? Looking at the clock by his bed, Spade groaned. It is four in the morning. Hands still shaky, the Obrimos pulls the notepad off his night stand and writes down everything he can recall of the nightmare, adding another page to the many already written.

Page watched from his sleeping spot at the foot of the bed.

Once done, Spade gets himself some water, feeds his cat, and looks back over the log he has writing. Where was this dream coming from? It seemed so real.

It was the night the Obelisks were destroyed. The Consilium warnings went out, and then went silent. For a month everyone was puzzled, the Museum was a blood bath. Andrade, Starling, Dee were thought dead. But the bodies were too mangled to be recognizable. The sigils on the walls. Spade recalled trying to stomach them as he wrote his report for the Free Council/
Then a call from the Captain a few weeks later. Spade hurried to Hostel HI. But it was already burning. The Fire department had given up and merely controlled the flames. Hopeless, Spade wandered the streets, his connection to Prime screaming out everywhere he went. The Ley Lines were becoming tainted. Spade found himself wandering some neighborhood north of the Hostel. Actively looking for any source of Mana he found a Hallow behind an old suburban home. Afraid to go home, Spade spent the next few days squatting in the old house.

Then a gruff Thrysus named Brutus showed up. He wasn’t very happy. Spade apologized trying to explain the situation, but the other Mage seemed to already know and in fact was in contact with the Consilium’s Arrows. A group of Talons were on their way to see if the house was a suitable place to hide.

I wasn’t. Mutated humans attacked, Brutus fighting them off with Spade’s pathetic help. Two other Arrows arrived, A Falx and his brother Tug. Brutus explained what had happened and the three agreed to meet up with the Sentinel and a few other Arrows working elsewhere.

Form there Spade’s account jumps. Many of the survivors gathered in a location Spade could not recall. But it was large. Armstrong was trying to open a portal, and the hell came to earth. Armstrong was consumed and turned. The fight was horrible. Spade remembers running, running as the building came down and Mages screamed. Animus, Joshua, and Brutus. Brutus went down fast, torn apart as the Fleshies overcame him. Joshua led the way toward a park.

There all the survivors met up. Falx in despare over the loss of his brother. The Free Council reduced to Spade and Errant. Zilker was missing. Tyria took commend with West’s support. The Arrows kept the piece as much as they could.

Then Tyria didn’t come back from a some sort of scouting mission and all hell broke loose. Spade did what he could to organize the group’s supplies before heading for the roof to give the rnegagdes a chance to escape. And there, Tug, Falx’s brother; was waiting. Only Tug was deranged. The former Arrow quickly dispatched those around Spade, even dropping Orphan from the roof top. And minutes latter Spade died. The final moment as Spade felt himself being torn apart…

Spade shudders rubbing his arms with his hands. Spade knew some much about these dream people. Some he had just met, like Dodger and Errant.

Others might have been there. But Spade didn’t really remember them when he awoke. For how long would this dream go on? Each morning Spade was only glad to be Awake.