This event ends not with a bang or a whimper, but a bleeding of colour much like a dampened painting. Any lingering lost memories return with a tickle of the realisation of lost knowledge. Across the sky, the until now muted sunlight brightens in a brilliant flash, then dims just as quickly as previously denied clouds rush in to cover it.
It rains.
The city's real residents have done well in fighting off the fantasy and its inhabitants, leaving few prowling the streets once the imagined world has almost completely disintegrated. It remains in parts, hovering in slivers over the truth barely hidden behind it, weak to that which forced it to begin to collapse initially.
It is in these areas that the remaining shades lurk, now utterly twisted beyond anything resembling a human. In sharp, elongated shapes with gaping jaws and clawed hands, they lurk where they can still take form and wait for people to come to them. Over the coming week, they will dissipate or be destroyed as all others were, but until then, they still present a danger to the unprepared.
Spending too long in the small spaces which still contain patches of the other world - should one be able to do so without being attacked - comes with its own risks. Lingering in these places will draw on your own memories, causing you to forget... but someone will come and get you before that happens, won't they? |