It was cold. Even within his bones it was cold. A cold so fierce that his body had lost all feeling. It was as if his mind itself was detached, left floating in the abyss of a pure and unfettered subconscious existence. How did he get here? He tried to pull the memories forward.<br/><br/>The vessel, his vessel, lay strapped into a metal bed. The first sensation that came to him was like that of a bee sting just beneath his hairline, near the base of his skull. It was followed by two other pinching sensations on the sides of his neck. Everything was calm for a time, but how long? Was it minutes? Or hours? Or even days? It was so hard to tell.<br/><br/>A flash of light filled his vision then, the precursor to what felt to be the death of peace. A raging inferno crawled up and into his silent hollow. The flames destroyed everything; ripping his form from its place and reshaping it to fit within the torrid being's malevolent design. Distant echoes of a scream filled the silent agony. Who's voice was it? It sounded familiar. Was he dreaming? Was that all it was, just a horrid nightmare?<br/><br/>"Charles! Charles!" The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Who was Charles? Why are they screaming for him? "Can you hear me Charles?" Am I Charles? Is this thought one of his? Maybe. The name was strange to him though. "The convulsing is beginning to stop. Heart rate is going down." That voice again. Why wouldn't it go away? He wanted it to go away.<br/><br/>Then there was something new. It was like a river all around him. Soon it began taking form, somehow both a liquid and solid form at the same time. It was like the object could be seen, but he could also see the vibrations that composed it. There was a man standing above him. His frequency was erratic. A man drenched in anxiety.<br/><br/>Charles was suddenly aware of himself again. He was aware of the noise that consumed the room; the sounds of heart monitors and medical equipment. The noise was irritating to him. As soon the thought came to him the monitor's chirping ceased. He could feel the beat of his heart. Too fast. Suddenly it was slower to. Charles opened his eyes to find the doctor standing over him as he had sensed. Charles' eyes saw him, but saw through him at the same time. His eyes could see the stuff that he was made of, that the room was made of. That even the world was made of.<br/><br/>Charles didn't speak, he just stared into the doctor's eyes. He could see his mind firing its synapses in response to the stimulation of his nervous system. Charles closed his eyes once more and slept. He dreamt of flying as he looked down on the universe, completely one with existence.