Konan…..
If he knew nothing else, he knew his name.
He knew it like the smell of blood and burning metal in the air.
He knew it like the feel of many eyes hard on him even though he just killed every threat in the crystal room.
Every threat under the full moon.
It's light shimmered and danced on his damp skin. Warm. Hot. Agitating. Alarming. The more he stood under the light, the louder the winds howled. The harder it was to see straight.
"Konan…."
Konan spun around with a snarl to find a formation of floating weapons.
He blinked— straining his vision in his exhausted and confused state.
Eventually, the lights in the ruins shifted and twisted until he saw them.
Holding their weapons.
Massive and Wolven in form. Some had dark fur while others had stripes or wore armor of strange metals and gems.
The more he looked, the more he perceived.
Violence. Blood and anger and war of insurmountable scale, spanning for miles, running rivers red.
He felt and sensed the pain of thousands. He felt the loss of love and hope and the influx of a great dark fear as red eyes danced in the shadows of exogenous memories and brought forth machines that cut up the sky and crumbled the earth.
One of the spirits stepped forward.
Massive and crowned by a mane of curly brown hair with markings circling her breasts and massive shoulders. She reached out for him with clawed hands and flat ears.
In her eyes he watched her die at the hands of firing squads and bombers in a flash.
So loud he was stunned. So quick he was nearly taken out of Conciousness.
He saw it in them all.
Their deaths.
Their need for something.
He couldn't understand. Couldn't focus with the ghosts screaming their ends at him.
He stumbled away, disoriented by the burning eye in the sky. Disgusted by the corpses beneath him.
All he could say was one word. One he learned through the spirits.
"...fear."
Konan turned on his heels and sprinted out of the lycan ruins he was born again inside of.
Full of terror, confusion and knowing nothing more than his name, he entered the world anew.
Along the way, he scooped up one of the miner's double sided climbing scythes. It was the only weapon he saw that wasn't floating and held by one of the spirits.
He ran for the rest of the night. In endless snow and ice and rivers of slush.
As he climbed glacial cliff faces and leapt across frozen canyon splits, he stumbled and fell at the unwarranted flow of visions.
Impulses and ideas.
Concepts and cultural phenomena.
It made it so even in his attempt to flee, he still had to fight.
He ran for what felt like ever.
Until the moon and it's burning rays was falling beneath the white mountains at his back, and a fiery star rose at his front, bringing warmth and bright blue skies with it.
For the first time in a long time, he sat down on a rock at the mouth of an empty cave spinning with light from an open ceiling deeper within.
He watched the fiery star continue its rise, bringing new silence, smells and sounds.
There was familiarity to it.
"…..sun."
Those were Konan's last words before he fell asleep in the cave.