[Meaningless, your existence is meaningless.]
A vague voice arose, and the person spoke somewhat angrily.
Past times were brought up again, and in the trance, molten iron surged, the machinery's roar interwoven, another voice then sounded again.
[Everything you do is in vain, ridiculous fellow.]
Countless sneers followed, engulfing him like the sea. He stretched out his hand forcefully but caught nothing, only to sink and fall to the deepest depths.
Until he fell heavily to the ground and slowly awakened, opened his eyes, and was met with the familiar gray-green ceiling, which might have once been vibrant, but with the age and decline of the owner, it too withered and faded, becoming a lifeless appearance.
Hig rubbed his eyes and after a long pause, pulled back the curtains beside the bed, allowing the not-so-bright morning light to slightly illuminate the room.
This was the room he had lived in for many years, this was his home, even though it was just a rental room.
