ATEEZ ONESHOTS [BXB]

-" Do You Hear That?"4 -

Experimenting again so expect the worst this can be a hit or miss but I'll edit it later

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3ʀᴅ ᴘᴏᴠ
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✎...

The world faded away slowly, like the last embers of a dying fire, leaving only a lingering warmth and the faintest glow in the distance. Consciousness slipped from San's grasp in layers, each one peeling away a bit more of his awareness until all that remained was an echo of his thoughts, scattered and disjointed, floating in a vast, dark void. Time lost all meaning. Seconds could have been hours, and hours, seconds. Everything blurred into an endless now.

In that darkness, there was no sense of self, no concept of being. It was as if his mind had been submerged in a thick, impenetrable fog, where thoughts attempted to form, only to dissolve before they could take shape. He was floating, weightless, with no sense of up or down, drifting through a sea of nothingness. His body seemed distant, a memory that faded with every passing moment, until he was little more than a consciousness adrift in the abyss.

There were flashes, brief flickers of something almost remembered, but they vanished as quickly as they appeared—faces, voices, places that held some significance, but they were too far away, like trying to catch a shadow in the dark. They slipped through his fingers, leaving only the vague impression that they had existed at all.

Occasionally, the darkness would thin, just for a moment, and a whisper of sensation would brush against his awareness. It was like feeling a breeze through a dream, fleeting and intangible. A hint of warmth, the sensation of touch, the echo of a sound—all of it just beyond the edge of perception, like the world trying to reach him through a thick veil. But it was never enough to pull him back.

Instead, he remained in that liminal space, teetering on the edge of reality, neither fully here nor completely gone. It was a strange kind of peace, devoid of emotion, of fear, of joy—just an existence, a state of being without purpose or direction.

At some point, time itself seemed to cease entirely. There was no longer even the sensation of drifting; everything had stilled, as though the universe itself was holding its breath. He hung there, in that void, for what could have been an eternity or a mere heartbeat, with no sense of when—or if—he would emerge from it.

Then, something shifted. It was subtle at first, a faint pressure in the depths of his mind, like a distant ripple across a still pond. The darkness began to lighten, not in a visual sense, but in a way that suggested the fog was thinning. His mind started to stir, sluggish and heavy, as if waking from a long, deep sleep.

The sense of self slowly began to return, a faint awareness of his own existence. Thoughts, fragmented and disoriented, began to coalesce, though they were still hazy and unclear. He became dimly aware of his body, though it felt foreign and disconnected, as if he were trapped inside it, unable to fully command it yet. Sensations started to filter in—the faintest brush of air against his skin, the distant throb of his own heartbeat, the pressure of something solid beneath him.

It was all still distant, like hearing a sound underwater, but it was there, pulling him back toward consciousness. The darkness, once so comforting in its emptiness, now felt suffocating, and there was a growing need to break free of it, to resurface and rejoin the world beyond. It was a slow, agonizing climb, as if he were swimming upward through thick, heavy molasses, every inch gained through sheer willpower.

With each passing moment, the sensations grew stronger, sharper. His heartbeat was now a steady, rhythmic drum in his chest, and he could feel the coolness of air on his skin, the slight ache in his muscles as they began to respond to his commands. The fog in his mind continued to lift, leaving behind a growing clarity. He was waking up.