I was climbing a rope. It was thin and silvery, and I was scaling a craggy cliff face- it was some form of crevasse. I didn't know what lay beneath me, I just knew I had enough, I needed to remove myself, I needed to reach the top and see the sun, and start something new above where I was.
So I climbed, tirelessly. But when I was nearing the top, the rope would not work any more. It got me that far, but to pull myself over the edge would be nothing but my own efforts. I found that my muscles were suddenly tired, but I clasped my hands on the edge of the cliff, straining to reach, and once I was there, I began pulling, trying to drag my upper body over the top of the cliff. My muscles screamed at me for making them do this, after they had just dragged me up all that rope, but I knew that I could not give up. I had to get over the top. Nothing more mattered than getting over the top. I was focused, and failure was not an option. So I struggled and strained, and managed to pull myself half up, so that my upper body was leaning on the edge, and took a moment to catch my breath. Then, I had to drag one leg up and roll over, once that was done, I lay panting, my muscles shaking from the strain.
When I finally could stand, I looked around. All around me was a barren land, like Mars. Everything had that reddish hue, and it all looked dead. The bottom of the crevasse however, was ful of people. It stretched for miles and miles, even though it was only a few dozens of yards wide, it was filled with thousands of thouasands of people.