The world was not yet a world.
They stood before the tree, woven from time itself, its branches stretching in all directions, like rivers of unfinished possibilities. Yet it was not alive in the usual sense. Its bark resembled a shimmering mist, changing depending on how one looked at it.
— What is this place? — Flamen asked, stepping closer to the trunk.
Emiren extended his hand, and in that moment, he felt something touch his consciousness. His thoughts seemed to dissolve into the air, and he saw light and shadow merging in endless entanglements.
— This is the beginning, — he replied, feeling how this place was shaping something new. — Or the end. Depending on what we do.
The one who had been Empty stared at the branches, which did not grow but flowed, like rivers of time that had not yet defined their banks.
— How do we find the road if it does not yet exist?
And then, the world shifted again.
Voices that Shape Reality
The ground beneath their feet trembled, and a road stretched out before them. It did not appear suddenly—rather, it had always been here, but no one knew which direction it led.
The air around them stirred.
Voices.
Soft, indistinct, they seemed to come from everywhere, as if the very air was speaking.
— You are the ones who have come to choose.
— You are the ones who can give form to this world.
— But do you know what you are creating?
Emiren felt how these words pierced him. These were not questions to be answered with words. It was something deeper—a trial of their essence.
— If this world has no time, then where do these voices come from? — Flamen asked quietly.
The Empty One answered first:
— They are not part of this place. They are echoes of our choice.
Emiren focused. The voices did not belong to any being, but they were not empty. They waited for a response, waiting for someone to fill this world with meaning.
— We seek what is yet to be born, — he said.
And then, the road beneath their feet changed.
The Trial of the Creators
It was no longer even.
Cracks appeared on the surface, dividing it into fragments. Some of them shimmered, others became transparent, and Emiren realized that this was no ordinary path. These were fragments of reality competing with each other.
One road led to a dark forest, where trees resembled shadows of memories.
Another led to a city that did not yet exist, its outlines flickering like a vision.
The third led into emptiness, where there was nothing.
— These are the variants of the future, — whispered Flamen.
— And we must choose? — asked the Empty One.
— No, — Emiren replied. — We must create.
He took a step forward.
And the world paused in anticipation.