Day Three

[Darth Vader]

In his dreams, Jon Snow was flying.

That's how it felt, at least. Colds winds hammered and bashed against him, pitting him off against the elements as he struggled to keep himself soaring through the air. Looking down, he could see it all; barren, lifeless trees of winter, ones that lacked any trace of it's leaves or other shrubberies. The branches swayed faintly as the cold breeze brushed against them, the sudden rush of air invigorating their typically unmoving forms.

What was this?

All of this felt quite familiar, as though he had dreamt it before. He felt out of body, almost. Out of mind and out of touch with his very being and form. It was like he couldn't control himself, where he turned and swerved. The feeling was quite indescribable.

Jon felt himself budge as the winds began to quickly pick up. They grew harsher and more demanding, roaring down on him in some kind of metaphorical defiance. He found himself struggling to keep afloat and adrift as a familiar voice entered his head - one he had not heard of for quite some time.

"Kill the boy, Jon Snow..." the soft, quiet tones of Maester Aemon Targaryen spoke with firm resolution and prudent advice. "Winter is almost upon us."

A strong blizzard and breeze rolled right through Jon as the scene began to shift, an aura of snow and frost masking it's transformation. When the icey fog began to clear itself, Jon was met with a recognisable, yet less-than-welcoming sight; the Wall.

It stood as tall and firm as ever, but it was quite clear even from a distance that something was amiss. The loose timbers of Castle Black had been razed to the ground, and continued to burn and rot away like a wood pyre even now. Dozens of sworn brothers and wildlings lay across the white-coated floors, their blood and organs sprawled across the grounds in a gruesome and horrific display. From the gate, the Wall itself looked like it had almost been split into two, the strong ice shattered and the iron-bolted gate collapsed.

The creatures of the far North began to pour in, and behind them, the army of the dead followed, slaves bound to the will of their Walker overlords. The slain all around them began to rise as they passed by, resurrected by the witchcraft and black sorcery of the Others, cursed to become their servants and cannon fodder in the long war to come.

One of the creatures, a Walker mounted on horseback, rode forth ahead of the marching stampede. It's lifeless, unforgiving, cold blue eyes surveyed the landscape ahead of it. Forestland for miles. The Walker rose it's spear into the air, letting out a terrifying screech, a call for the Long Night to truly begin.

Jon heard the faint voice of Maester Aemon one last time as he felt himself begin to awake from his terrible nightmare.

"Kill the boy... and let the man be born."

* * * *

Jon gasped for air as his eyes flickered open, the crack of evening light hitting his sight and senses. His body jolted and scampered up as he soon regained his movement and control, sitting up from his slumped position against the tree behind him.

Sasuke, who wasn't seated far away at all, raised a brow as he heard Jon awaken, shifting his gaze toward him.

"You alright?" he questioned him. He lacked a distinct sound of care or compassion for him comrade in his voice, but he asked moreso out of mere curiosity and courtesy, clearly. Jon nodded silently as he moved an arm to rub the fatigue from his eyes, his heart's speed beginning to slow down to a resting pace.

"Aye, fine..." Jon sighed. "Just... had a strange dream, is all" he took a few minutes to compose himself and gather his thoughts before his gaze floated to look at Sasuke, who'd now glanced away with a lack of interest and caring. "Where is-" "He wanted to go look ahead a little bit" the ninja cut him off almost instantaneously. "He'll be back soon enough."

Right on cue, the faint sound of cackling sounded from the forests behind Jon. His senses sharp and alert, Jon quickly hopped to his feet, drawing his bow and unfolding it with a click. He was almost ready to pluck an arrow from his quiver and open fire, and would of if he hadn't got a good luck at the man, first.

"It is only I, your King. No need to try and shoot me again" Gilgamesh rolled his eyes, raising his hands up slightly. Jon lowered his bow and got a good look at him, but he made no movement to bow and or greet him, simply making a silent walk back over to where his bag was resting against the tree.

"Well...?" Sasuke's gaze hovered to Gilgamesh as he rose to his feet and approached him. "You see anything? Or... anyone, rather?" the ninja inquired. The king nodded slightly in response.

"I saw some robed and another one of those unholy demon children some clicks South of here" the King confirmed as a wide grin began to spread across his lips. "I recognise the child as an Ambrosian..."

Sasuke's eyes lit up at that. "She's just fair game, then" he agreed, glancing over to Jon. Snow didn't say a word, rather he hiked his bag back over his shoulders and kept his bow unfolded and under his arm. Such gestures seemed to be enough confirmation that he was game and ready.

The three exchanged silent nods to one another, and they pair began to follow Gilgamesh through the dense foliage of the forests. They moved with quick haste; if they slacked they'd miss them, after all, and that's not what Gilgamesh wanted, that wasn't his plan. He was a king in his own right, yet he still desired to be the King of the ashes and the dead contestants of Dante's Abyss.

And Jon wouldn't try and stop him; not yet, at least. He'd play along with this little mind-game until he got out of here. Then Karl Jak would have some questions to answer.