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The world was again enveloped in flames, and I found myself standing atop a dirt mound. The flames were again licking the palms of my hands, and I rubbed them together, hoping to put the fire out. Instead, when I unclasped my hands, they involuntarily shot out, and fire, so bright my eyes watered, spanned the dirt ahead of me in a V-shaped line.

I thrust my hands toward the ground, spinning as I did so, making a perfect circle around me. I was literally standing in a burning ring of fire. A wild grin spread throughout my face, but as I turned in slow, steady circles, the grin vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Of course, I was on Earth, but it didn't seem like it to the least extent. The sun was only miles away, but it didn't hurt me at all, going beyond the laws of physics and any infortmation I had ever learned about the warmth of this red, orange, yellow, and blindingly white spherical object.

I walked down from the mound of red dirt, and onto darker brown dirt. I realized where I was.

I was in my city's park, though tops of the trees were ignited with fire and the ground was torn up, more brown dirt than green lush grass.

Human and animal bodies littered the streets, all of their eyes open, as if they were looking at something that was utterly hideous. There was no blood, but their limbs were bent at odd angles.

I fought the urge to rid myself as I saw my grandmother, her glistening white hair matted with blood, her throat cut open into a bright red smile. She was the only one who had bled to death on that street. Her face was just one of many I knew as I walked down the street; Connor, Adagio, and JH were also on the street, their faces beaded with sweat and their eyes open, as if they were petrified but not dead.

If almost everyone else is here that I know, then why isn't Crimson? I thought as I began running through the park and around the trees, looking for my best friend, carefully placing where I stepped.

A familiar voice came from behind a tree in the middle of the park. "You see?" the voice called as the owner stepped out from behind the tree, his fine silvery hair standing out from the other browns and greens of the park.

Frederick St. Dougal. Why is he here? I thought silently.

"This is what will happen, Emry. All of this will be true, and all of it will be for a reason. Just one step closer."

And the world came crashing down around me.

I opened my eyes again, hoping it was over, hoping I was awake.

I wasn't.

I was standing on metal Monkey Bars. Like a little kids gym, but I wasn't swinging from the bars. I was standing on them. And the bars were spread out, one every four or so feet. I was wearing boots, and I struggled to keep my balance, my arms flailing out.

I looked down. There was fire directly under the Monkey Bars, the flames below standing taller than I. I screamed in a desperate panic to get help, and stopped when I heard a voice shouting over mine, a voice I knew like the back of my hand.

"EMRY! EMRY STOP SCREAMING! Stop screaming and look at me," Crimson yelled, and I looked directly in front of me. There he was, his red hair looking uncharacteristically perfect, his shirt torn, his blue eyes desperately locking with mine.

He had his hands out, as if he could catch me if I fell, although I was a good four yards from him. He said, slowly, patiently, "Come here. I'll help you. Just walk towards me."

And I did, evening out my breath, stepping on the rungs with delicate precision. My eyes were still locked With Crimson's, and he was nodding each time I took a step.

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