Chapter Text
Time. It's an enticing word, isn't it? One must wonder what can be done when you have lifetimes of it. People can only do so much in such little time. More specifically, how do some even utilize it? Well, they may do so in pursuing their hobbies, get together with friends or their communities, or continue working on their careers to succeed. However, it's not all black and white. Things overlap. Several bands do such things: bringing their communities together through their careers, from however long they've thrived.
So many groups have grown mightier and brighter as their career progresses, and there is one in particular among these groups. They've toured for decades, and they show no sign of stopping anytime soon. It was the mid-year of 2006 when one of the largest bands in British heavy metal had been working on a new album, A Matter of Life and Death. Undoubtedly, Iron Maiden stood tall in their work, doing whatever they pleased to fulfill themselves.
The recording process was rather successful so far, along with the band members feeling a sense of unity as they worked together to create a strong album. Outside of recording music, they would be interviewed themselves about songs and their own explanations of what each song was about. Fortunately, they already decided which songs would be singles with a unanimous decision, thanks to Steve's proposal for them. Steve tended to be persuasive in choosing singles, which was a blessing for him. Otherwise, a generally positive outlook for its release in three months.
But unfortunately, good moments die quick. Once they were reaching the end of recording, an abrupt but terrible feeling squandered the comfort of their very own studio.
Mainly, it struck Bruce.
Bruce was finishing up his part in the last song of the album, The Legacy, before he concluded he had to lay down, for some odd reason. He realized he hadn't been feeling right, so he did so in order to prevent his performance from being altered. He told himself, only for a minute or two, but caught the attention of Steve. The bassist grew confused, as a breakappeared unusual. The other band members, though, didn't bat an eye. Steve kept watch of him, just in case something were to go wrong. Bruce taking a small break seemed to be safe…right?
Bruce accidentally fell asleep. The emptiness within his mind pooled around him, leaving him in a dream-like state as he hovered in the voided air. Nothing else surrounding him, just a dead space with nothing to guide him. He made attempts to look around, but a sense of unease pierced him, leaving him frozen as he refused to cry out for someone. A sensation he felt often prior to leaving the band in 1993. Yet a feeling such as that…was different. Once he broke out of his state, he lowered his feet to the dark ground, unable to land at first. Eventually he felt the floor, cold and unwelcoming. He gently pulled himself forward and trembled to even move. Hesitant, he sputtered out to figure out if anyone else was present.
Nobody. At all. A sense of distorting dread settled deep in his gut as nothing called back, and not single object had been present. He could feel his heart palpitating, pulsing in his brain as he started to sweat. The silence was anything but calming. In fact, the silence felt deafening. He grew desperate to find a reason for his current setting.
After what felt to be an eternity, the darkness receded and revealed a mysterious, but unnerving, city. He glared down at his hands now that he could finally see, but a feeling jolted in his body that eradicated whatever fear he held onto. Surely his peace wouldn't last, so he let himself appreciate the fact he felt somewhat fine. He proceeded to clench his fists and progressed through the city, noticing the futuristic nature of the buildings. He felt so minuscule compared to them, and he only desired to learn more. The vocalist failed to go far, though, as he heard a deep bellow in the distance. He continued to stand on the winding streets as the sky deepened above, only growing darker. And bloodier. He raised his hand, like he reached for the maroon atmosphere, until a frigid screech chilled him to his core. Where did it come from? Was it something? Someone? The earth trembled before Bruce collapsed to his knees.
Only for him to find himself in the darkness once again.
Bruce nearly let out a pained gasp as he clutched his collar bone, heaving breaths while he quivered in fear. His clutched hand shifted up and planted his palm onto his head, messing up his rough bangs even more. His eyes glided back and forth in front of him, bewildered. It was only a dream…it felt so real. Did it have any kind of significance?
…or, will it?
As soon as Bruce awoke, Nicko was leaning on the doorframe. His stare appeared fearful, concerned. Steve had asked him to check on Bruce when an hour passed. "Bruce, are you alright?"
Bruce, although petrified, slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, yeah—I guess," he stammered. They both exchanged soft glances, in which Bruce's eyes appeared cold and distant, trying to hide what he was truly feeling. Nicko acknowledged it, exiting the room to leave the vocalist alone. The dream plagued him, like a parasite feeding off its host. He knew it was a thing he couldn't shake off, so hopefully sitting with it helped it dissipate. All the while, he started to think if the dream had meaning, and it could eventually happen soon. Unsure how soon, he could only believe it might've been some point in the future. He went to sit up, his dim eyes distantly gazing at the band outside of the room. The windows provided the vocalist to view his band mates, and he could tell they were exchanging conversations, some of them off-putting. He couldn't describe that feeling, but it seemed something was off, in general.
Bruce fidgeted with his fingers, hugging himself with a sigh. "I can't tell them yet. I don't know if I have the strength to," He muttered. "Why does everything feel so off?" As he asked himself that, he dragged himself back onto the couch he lay on, facing the cushions and his back facing outside. His body still felt cold. He kept obsessing over the vision, desperate for it to fade away after being engraved into his mind.
Nothing helped, but it did eventually release its hold from him to the point it pestered him only a little bit and not overwhelm him. He also fell back asleep, with no other dream coming to haunt him. However, he could find one small detail in his mind to decipher. He believed to have seen something else, standing in the empty void that persisted.
Something roared for Bruce.
Bruce didn't sleep all too well, but he was, in no doubt, feeling slightly better after last night. He slowly stretched out with a yawn, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before getting to his feet. He stared at the couch that served him well during his rest, since he failed to get home. Weariness in his gaze, he staggered into the room where the other five congregated; their attention snapped over towards Bruce, relieved.
"Mornin', Bruce," Dave started, waving his hand pleasantly. "We noticed you didn't go home last night and you fell asleep here. Nicko had mentioned you didn't look very well. Is there anything going on?"
Bruce gestured the motion back, grunting as he gave an unsure nod. "I guess, everything is fine. I'm not sure if it was just me, but yesterday was a little odd…It was almost as if some weird, impending doom hit me, yeah?"
Everyone in the band had felt that before, and that feeling was always shared if one person experienced it. And it always happened when tensions arose between them. Of course, this instance was much more different than before. So, Janick thought he needed to speak up, saying, "I'm honestly relieved that it wasn't just us. It wasn't only you, Bruce."
"What?" Bruce gasped. He tilted his head, nearly stunned that Janick was the person to say that. Considering he tended to be the one to fool around the most, most of the time on stage, came off as unexpected to the vocalist.
"I can recall Steve mentioning how when you decided to take a break, some weird and uneasy feeling happened to come in and it got caught with the five of us. I'm assuming you felt the same," Janick mentioned. He said it to reassure his close friend, but also to explain what they were experiencing. Fortunately, his efforts were successful.
Bruce heaved a sigh. "Good to know that I wasn't the only one hit with something so terrible such as the impending doom. But, it feels to be lurking, still," he groaned. He hesitated once more, a growing sense of desperation for it to be gone. As a result, silence accumulated in the boxed area, only growing heavier the more Bruce refused to speak. It was almost embarrassing to be admitting it. He finally killed the strain by adding one more ominous declaration, "If you guys don't mind, I need to get some shit out of my head. I'll be back soon. I'm also not bringing my phone. It's just a little walk, that's all."
"Are you sure? If that's all it is, don't take too long," Adrian said. "We're almost done with recording, and the last thing we need is you getting hurt," he added before Bruce started for the door. The vocalist understood, quickly grabbing his jacket as he slipped through the studio's door and left.
"Bruce better come back soon, we don't need him quitting randomly. 1993 was only 12 years ago, so up and leaving is not ideal at all," Nicko remarked, with Steve staring at the door with worried eyes.
The voices faded as Bruce entered the outside, wrapping himself in the jacket he snatched when he left. He effortlessly hid his face as he paced through London, ignoring every single person that acknowledged him. They were probably thinking, where was he going? Why is he wandering off from the band? Did they have a fallout? Such trivial questions, so useless to worry about. Though, those questions made him realize: maybe he had unresolved problems with the band? Did he really let go from some of the grudges he held? He still had no nerve to care. He remembered a train station located at least 10 minutes from the studio, along with his gut pushing him to get on a train that would be stopping soon. For whatever reason, he went through with the idea.
He had to get away from all of it. Wherever he ended up, maybe it'd help him remove the growing feeling of impending doom flooding through his form, caging him from feeling free.