SS0-II

Somewhere along the axes that made up his psyche, between the bars that cress every thought or sensation, rests a hole. One might think it came to be when the incident took place, but he felt like it was there, or technically not there, all along. It's a strange entity if one might call it that. This void, depths of pitch black nothingness, echoing wordless silence, calls for him with the wave of  a non-existing hand. He can see it now, he can understand it, but he never saw it coming. The framework of one's mind disappears with a faint gradient to outline the void, as if it's the quicksand for the whole of reality, minus him. He sees himself falling, without any fear or distress, without any sense of anxiety or peril. He is in perpetual motion. There is nothing, no sides or circumference, nothing that can be physically sensed. Basically, nothing to contort.

...