Felicity

The Pink beckoned.

Flash Sentry sensed it. It was stronger than before. He wasn't certain what drew it out, but...

It motioned for him. Like a hand beyond the veil. He made a move: approaching—or so he thought.

But the Pink receded. Flash was left out in the cold. He shivered, clutching himself, seeking answers.

He became vaguely aware of a large structure before him.

He looked up. Pretty blue eyes squinting.

There were balconies. Columns. Ramparts. But no source. Nothing that made sense of what he... sensed.

Flash felt the urge to move forward. He did so on freezing feet. His teeth chattered at this point. The boi was alone. Abandoned. Enveloped by the darkness.

But threre was something waiting for him. Just up ahead. He limped towards it, his face pale and pleading.

It wasn't fear that drew him forward, but something very real. Very colorful. Very warm.

When he came upon the fringe of the blackness, he sensed that what he was looking for—and who he was—lingered just a reach forward.

He craned his ears towards the imperceptible, and for the briefest of moments he thought he heard a voice. Beckoning.

Like honey on the eardrums.

His heart skipped a beat. The Pink was within grasp. He tilted forward... lunged... plummeted...