The world was harsh contrasts. It was empty. Derek was alone.
Derek felt exposed. He dropped to his knees and tried to block out the voices in his head.
Time was passing. The sun and the moon turned into a harsh line that seemed to contract on him.
Derek felt fear. He drew into himself and tried to cover his soft belly, but it wasn’t soft anymore; it was wrinkled and bony. He tried to cover his face, but there wasn’t enough strength in his old limbs.
Derek rotted away and the world got harsher and harsher.