The world around them was dissolving, as if it could not decide whether it should exist.
Emiren, Flamen, and the Empty One stood in the heart of an impossible place—at the base of a tower with no end. Its walls shimmered, as if made of fragments of time, of things that were meant to happen but never did.
The wind did not move here. The air was neither heavy nor light—it simply existed, devoid of essence.
Ahead, an open passage into the depths of the tower beckoned with an invisible force.
— We must learn the truth, — Emiren whispered.
— But are we ready? — the Empty One asked.
— There is only one thing left—to find out.
And they stepped inside.
Stairs into Infinity
Darkness swallowed them, but not completely.
Towering stairs spiraled upward, disappearing into the mist. Their footsteps made no echo, for sound held no meaning here.
Each step seemed to be woven from fragments of memory.
Emiren noticed impressions of moments carved into the stone slabs—events that had never been part of his life but could have been: he, walking a different path, he, never becoming a Creator.
Flamen stopped, running his hand over one of the steps.
— This is more than just a way up, — he said. — It is a journey through possibilities.
— Possibilities of what? — the Empty One asked.
— Perhaps of creation… Or perhaps of destruction.
And they continued their ascent.
The One Who Does Not Yet Exist
At the top of the stairs, a hall awaited them.
It had no walls, no ceiling—only an infinite space filled with intertwining light and shadow, locked in a chaotic dance.
In the center of this hall stood him.
Not a man. Not a being.
Something that resembled an idea, a concept not yet made real.
His form shifted, as if it had not yet been defined. His eyes flickered with countless colors, changing every moment.
— You have come, — he spoke with a voice that echoed from both the future and the past.
— Who are you? — Emiren asked.
— I am the one who has yet to be created. I am the one who can become everything or nothing.
— What does that mean? — Flamen sounded uncertain.
— It means that your actions will determine whether I appear in the world and what I will become.
The Empty One remained silent, watching the shifting figure intently.
— We have already made our choice by coming here, — he finally said.
— Yes. But the choice is not yet complete.
The Price of Creation
The space around them began to shift.
The shadows, which had been swirling in chaotic currents, suddenly froze, forming countless reflections.
Each of them saw themselves.
Emiren saw a version of himself who had never discovered his abilities.
Flamen saw himself as an ordinary mortal, never touched by fire.
The Empty One… saw himself as the person he had been before he lost everything.
— Every choice comes with a price, — said the voice of the one who was yet to exist. — Are you willing to pay it?
Emiren stepped forward.
— If we do not choose, what will happen?
— I will remain the one who does not exist. And the world will remain as it is.
Flamen clenched his jaw.
— But if we choose…
— Then reality will change. And perhaps, not in the way you wish.
Silence fell.
The Empty One closed his eyes.
— Then what should we do?
— Understand who you truly are.
And before them, another door opened.