Darkness engulfed his vision.

A nearly suffocating terror held it's grip on his heart, Elliot's ears ringing loudly from the harsh impact. The land around crumbled and fell, lonesome reminents of the once beautiful Dream Plaza becoming victim to the Dark Ocean swirling beneath.

Not much was left now, only the stone tile set in the center. The delicately designed fountain that Elliot had adored so dearly was completely shattered, laying in pieces around the two. The enormous trees nearly as old as time itself that once protected the clearing were devoured by the raging darkness - each doorway that held the paradise of Elliot's precious Nightopias they worked so hard to protect had dispersed as well. Even the old Gatekeeper was missing, most likely taken the Nightopians and himself to a refuge once the battle began.

Ever so slowly he stood, the patterened pathways below spinning and spiraling as Elliot attempted to regain his balance. He failed this simple task, crumbling back to the cold tile floor in defeat. He no longer felt courageous. It had been sapped out of him the moment they hit the ground.

They had failed. The wicked God of Nightmare overcame them with such unyielding force that they hadn't expected. Now, all of the Night Dimension will pay for their actions. Crimson blood poured out from Elliot's wounds that were created by the sudden fall. Ignoring the stinging pain, he crawled over to his fallen friend, praying that ze was okay.

"NiGHTS," he felt his voice crack, attempting to hold back tears at the condition of the nightmaren. During their dualization, the jester had taken all of the pain and damage Wizeman inflicted upon them, wave after wave. Ze was badly injured, on the brink of death. Now, ze laid there motionless, except for the occassional sharp breath of pain that let Elliot know ze was at least still alive.

Elliot clutched tightly onto his friend, tears dripping down his face endlessly onto the body of the unconscious 'maren. "NiGHTS please," he begged, "don't die. Don't leave me." It hurt him to see hir like this. Gently, he bowed his head and rested it against the red Ideya shard - their soul - imbedded in hir chest. According to the jester, it hadn't always been there. Only when they had stolen and sent away the Courage Ideya to the Waking World did it appear, giving them the ability to fight back against Wizeman the Wicked.

His pleas went unanswered, Elliot now no longer being able to hide his despair. He could feel the darkness creeping in closer, the island breaking more and more. Soon, they might join the entrance of dreams to it's demise - if Wizeman didn't find them first. The young boy tightened his grip on the fallen nightmaren, ready to protect hir from any threats. Although, deep down - he knew there was nothing that could be done. Everything was doomed, yet that wouldn't stop him from giving up hope. He wouldn't - couldn't - let hir die.

All those happy adventures they had seemed like so long ago. Defeating the second level nightmares, playing with the Nightopians, learning to fly. . .

He remembered meeting NiGHTS clearly. The beautiful melody of a flute had drawn his attention to hir. When the Nightopians had caught hir attention at the arrival of a Visitor, ze kindly asked him for help. Elliot had quickly agreed, freeing them from the blue pagoda ze had spent several months residing inside. The two had spent most of the time flying and playing games with the Nightopians, protecting them as well from a few nightmarens who had the desire to eat them. Now, those happy times seemed so far away - even if was only a few hours ago.

Ze was so carefree and happy when they had first met. Elliot wished to go back a few hours to those times, to at least be able to warn hir. . . What would happen to the paradise they worked so hard to protect?

A chilling laugh reverberated around the world, terror crashing through Elliot in violent waves. He felt frozen to the core. "NiGHTS, please wake up!" The blue haired male begged one last time, before two giant, metallic hands came into view. One made a grab for the duo, tearing Elliot away from the limp body of NiGHTS. The other caught the rebel and nearly squeezed what little life remained inside hir.

"No, please! NiGHTS!" He screamed, trying to get out of the God's strong grip. "Let me go!" The boy could feel all of his heart's components leaving him. It felt like his very soul was being ripped out of his body, pain beyond belief despite being a dream. It dug it's way to every part of him, leaving the boy aching deep withing his bones. Screams in utter agony released from his throat, tears still falling relentlessly from his deep blue eyes. Everything was gone, everything was hopeless.

Slowly, his vision started to go black. Elliot managed to get one last look at the injured jester. Hir head lulled with the movement of the hand, hir face unbelievably pale and bruised. It was hard to acknowledge ze was the same nightmaren the blue haired basketball player met. He called out to hir again, before succumbing to the darkness.

"NiGHTS," Elliot cried softly, sitting up in his bed. Moonlight poured into the room, the city outside still as busy as the daytime. He couldn't focus, overcome by sorrow and despair of what had happened. The young boy wasn't sure what had happened. He wasn't sure if it was just a dream. It all felt so real. He could clearly recall the touch of hir hand when they first dualized - down to the agonizing pain of his heart being destroyed. He couldn't go back to sleep now. He didn't want to, knowing what would be there. Or better yet, what wouldn't. Would Wizeman kill hir? Or will ze be someone completely different, cold, obedient? Elliot didn't want to think about the unknown. There was one thing he did understand. The thought kept repeated itself in his mind as he mourned.

They failed.

Happy 22nd birthday, NiGHTS.