Igor began to run.
Across the endless and vast land, he ran, fearlessly ran.
He didn't know what to do; all he wanted to do was run.
Running from here to there, and then to another direction.
In this place, Igor couldn't tell east from west; he only knew how to run forward.
He didn't want to think about so many things anymore because he wanted to empty his mind right now. This was a place he couldn't understand, where all his previous knowledge was useless.
He was starting to believe this wasn't the Inner World.
Those running flames, the sparks that shot out, the stones flying, the sword wielded by Nonoa, the dancing embers, Nonoa's white hair... these things kept flying through his mind.
Igor tried to connect these things, but he had no clue.
Foreign, completely a foreign feeling, without a hint of familiarity.
Igor hoped running could solve his problems; he hoped, like before, he could find new inspiration while emptying his thoughts.
Yet none of this existed.
