Breathe in. Breathe out. Rooting. Rumbling. Roaring. Cheers erupt from the crowd, hundreds on their feet mouths gaping hands clasping together a disunified boom of Thunder ~ But one cannot hear except for the dulling echo a Cavern of the Dead. Breathe in. Breathe out. The body moves before the mind any sting of pain is just a shadow unable to fully manifest. The body continues keeping pace gliding through space passing by each familiar face. The Breath catches, coming to a heaving stop. Gentle streams begin tracing down, borrowing in, trying to imprint their legacy forever. Scuttling to the finish line, a shelter of explosives an echo of its former Self. Breathe in. Breathe out. the clock strikes, a bomb bursts fracturing the memories. Cleansing all of a once been reality. Breathe in. Breathe out. Crossing the white line and the still was finally broken by a Waterfall. Rushing Wondrous Relief ~