Mia felt sick, staring at the green door. He couldn't look away... no matter how much he tried.

He knew he was in a dream and unable to wake, despite the countless number of times he had tried.

From the moment Mia awoke, he knew this day would come - meeting other people, collaborating with Third, Diana, and others who's names he forgot... all of it meant little in the grand scheme of things when he was infected with the virus.

It had already consumed him.

His consciousness stirred, and yet... it didn't. Mia was no longer a singular entity; it had happened to countless before him, and he knew he wouldn't be the last.

He simply was. He was the virus. Mia could see that now, looking at his eyes through the network of the virus, feeling abstract almost like those famous paintings on the walls.

It was knowledge, it was creation. He was a legacy.

With this final awakening, Mia became fully immersed, satisfied completely. Once, he'd had a name. It was irrelevant now, useless. The virus was a gathering of memories, his existence a collection. He was merely a part of things, a small brush on the greater canvas that was the virus.

No.

His legacy was a gift. He had to infect those remaining, to gift them the greatest possible treasure one could ever hope for themselves. Why did they struggle? Why did they resist? Didn't they know of the glory of being part of a legacy?

This isn't what I am.

Confusion flitted across his mind, and then was swatted away like a fly in the air. He had to harvest, to feed, to gather. The world was his vessel, and the memories... the memories fueled his legacy-

I am not creation. There is still so much that-

He felt like he was being torn apart. Mia's memories weren't complete. He felt like he was being torn apart, and then... he was freed.

Mia felt like he was awake, but on further realization, he felt that he had no form. Where his body was, what he had become... it scared him. Like this, he wasn't human. He felt like the monster he always felt like he was... now it just showed on the outside, as well.

Would he ever gain his human form back? ... was it already too late?

Looking frantically around him, Mia shoved back the endless thoughts and focused on the vines, making them wrap around himself, wrap around what he thought was his core... making something vaguely resembling human but feeling deep down that it wasn't. Not really.

It was probably for the better that he didn't see himself, but he stared at his makeshift hand, forming a hand out of the vines and wiggling what he felt were his fingers.

The form would have to do, on such short notice. It felt strange.

Struggling to keep a hold of what he just gained, Mia stumbled forward in an attempt to find his body, his real body, and nearly tripped over a crumpled up form that was lying at his feet.

Reaching forward with the makeshift vine-fingers, Mia traced over its face, wondering if it was his body, if he'd actually found it so soon-

No. This was not his body. This was the body he saw in a dream, the human that had strived so hard to save him, that had delved into the nightmare without even a glance back or a harried look.

He'd attacked her, and a wave of guilt washed through him. Curled up with fluffy hair, she almost resembled a sheep of sorts. A black sheep? Probably. Yes?

Curious now, his fingers brushed over the vines and they dissipated, retreating, obliging. Very gently, he picked the little black sheep up and carried her away from the center of the chambers, further and further away from the vines. When he reached the stairs, there was no protest from the vines - they let him pass, strangely enough.

Tackling the stairs two by two, Mia felt the vines recede around him, uncoiling, unable to hold his form together no matter how much he willed his mind to actually contain the shoddy form he'd slapped together.

Upon reaching the base of the stairs, Mia felt that he could go no farther; he lost bits and pieces of himself and could not retrieve them unless he went back. He did not go back - he had to get his rescuer to safety.

A mental sigh of relief was given as Mia saw the exit sign over the door, and the fog slowly seeping in - there were also faint forms of people outside, but there was no contamination there. They were free of the virus.

With the edges of his being, he pushed the black-sheep-girl out the door, watching as they carried her off and he retreated as he was satisfied that she was rescued, forced to retreat to gather himself again before he lost his substance entirely.

A favor... for a favor.

As Mia returned up the stairs, he gathered the final pieces of himself and stared at other shapes lumbering around him. Upon brushing against them with his vines, he realized that they were just like him sans the memories. Mia was just what was left of his remains, while the rest of him had already become a part of Creation. It wouldn't be long until he would become the legacy again.

There was no leaving the center. This is what he was - what he had become.

His time, however, was not up yet. For the moment, he was still here, still had his memories, and he was still himself.

Mia would hold onto that as long as he could.