[ WP ] The world is ending , but only because you are part of a tangent that now does not happen . You describe your last thoughts as this reality collapses on itself .

The ground shook violently, but I hardly felt a thing. It had worked. The traveler had prevented the events leading to the dark times. False hope would not spread. Faith would not be shattered. Deception would be minimal in comparison to this place. Millions would not perish. 
 
 Yet, everything around had begun to, in a way, perish without consequence. This is how it happens, I thought. You don ’ t fade, there is no great flash, and it does not simply reset in the blink of an eye. There is no transformation. This world does not transform into the previous, nor does it become sucked into it. 
 
 “ You can still come with me. ” The Traveler said. He seemed so sure that I could just separate myself from what was mine and be a part of what was right. I knew better though. 
 
 “ I can ’ t do that. ” 
 
 He was sad, but there was no time to discuss. He simply nodded, and entered his box-shaped shelter. The door locked behind him. I expected some kind of portal to open and consume the box, but it didn ’ t. Nothing happened to it. For all I know, he was lying and this was his way of feeling safe. I didn ’ t feel dreadful, though. I didn ’ t feel fear. I felt relieved, so perhaps he was right and this was real. Real enough, at least. It certainly wasn ’ t real now. 
 
 Everything around me was pulling closer, hugging onto me. Should I fear what was coming? I suppose not. This was my doing, after all. It wasn ’ t like I was going to die. I wasn ’ t dying. I wasn ’ t anything. Maybe in another place or time, but not here. Not Anymore. 
 
 I began to feel dizzy, so I closed my eyes. They closed and closed. They felt like they were rolling down a hill, returning to the heart of my being. I didn ’ t feel anything. Not even emotionally. Now I was just a spectator, watching. Everything was conceptual, not whole. Flat. Colorless. It was just beginning, but in reality it was ending. A birth in reverse. 
 
 I don ’ t remember what I was talking about. I don ’ t remember. What is remembering? I don ’ t. I can ’ t. I ’ m not. 

