  Four men.  Thousands of miles apart, but so close 
as to feel each other's thoughts.  Sense the others 
living, breathing.  They are one.
  "I am trapped."
  The unspoked words echo loudly through an endless 
world of insanity.  The four minds vainly grasping 
for the edge of some sane world.  Drifting.  A tiny 
thread of sanity dances tauntingly beyond reach.
  "I must try"
  "I will be lost"
  "Only my mind"
  "It is already lost"
  "I must try"
  "I will be saved"
  A man breaks free.  Driven over the edge.  He falls
freely.  Quickly.  He is lost.
  "I am free"
  "I am trapped"
  The thread draws nearer.
  "I am lost"
  "I can be saved"
  The one moves closer.
  "I can reach it"
  "It is mine"
  "I will share"
  "It is too small"
  "There is enough"
  "It is mine"
  The one breaks free.  The other stops him.  It eludes 
them.  They fall.  They are lost.
  "I can reach it"
  One man remains.
  "I must try"
  "You must wait"
  He hears a voice.
  "It is close, I can reach it"
  "You will fall, you must wait"
  The voice is commanding.  Comforting.  Warm.  It can 
be trusted.  
  "I will wait"
  "You must try"
  The voice grows cold.
  "I will fall"
  "You can reach it"
  "I must wait"
  "You must try"
  The voice is pleading.
  "I will wait"
  He is unsure.  Wavering.  What is this voice?  Why 
does it taunt me?
  "You must try"
  "I will wait"
  "You must wait"
  He hears voices below.
  "I will wait"
  "You can reach it"
  "You will fall"
  The voices are kind.  Sure.
  "I will wait"
  The thread draws nearer.
  "You are lost"
  The voice grows colder.
  "You can reach it"
  The voices are reassuring.  Strong.
  "I will try"
  He grasps the thread.  Milking it.  He breathes the 
sanity.  It makes him strong.  Another thread draws near.  
  "I must help you"
  "We are lost"
  "I can save you"
  "You will fall"
  "I will save you"
  "You will fall"
  The voice is colder now.  Evil.  
  "You cannot help them"
  The voice is taunting now.
  "You will fall"
  He grasps the thread.
  "I will save them"
  "You will fall"
  "I will fly"
  He breaks free.  He falls.  Slowly.  Safely.  They 
take the thread.  Stronger now, I begin to rise.  
More threads draw near.  I grasp them.  The threads 
grow larger.  I milk them.  
  "You will fall"
  The voice grows weak.
  "I am free"
  "You will fall"
  I rise.  It grows closer.  I reach for it.  It moves.  
  "You can not reach it"
  The voice grows stronger.  Taunting.
  "I will reach it"
  "You will fall"
  It grows closer.  I grasp for it, no longer in vain.
  "I am free"
  "You will fall"
  The voice is weak.  It will fall.
  "I am free"

                                                        --Conan
