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David Taylor, 10 Sep '13

The man ran. Sweat seeped into his eyes; air rasped in his throat; his heart boomed in his chest. Yet he ran. He ran because that was all he could do. Each step was like a blur after the one before; each step brought him ever closer to the light blazing before him.

It shone like nothing he had ever seen, blazing brighter than even the youngest life's soul in its first timid glimpse at the world. There was an energy in the light, you should know this: a purity of the likes he had scarcely imagined in all of his long years. The light was all that was good in the world; forever holding the DARKNESS at bay. The light was eternal and strong, shining forth from a tower of crystal that yearned for the gossamer clouds themselves.

The man ran. He just ran. His strength did not flag; his limbs did not weaken; his heart did not falter. It was his resolve, you see, growing ever more prominent with each new step. The tower beckoned to him: calling a name that was so secret, buried so deep that not even he knew it was there. It was his true name - the name stamped into the thick ichor of his soul - a name bestowed upon him by something more than what us of MANKIND can ever hope to comprehend. It was a shade of light; a knowing that he was forever welcome in the unending LOVE of the tower.