The light behind them faded, but a new space unfolded before them—a place where time held no power and reality had yet to be determined.
Emiren, Flamen, and the one who remembered his name stood on the threshold of the unknown. The gates that had brought them here had vanished as if they had never existed. The air was motionless, yet filled with noise—a whisper of countless voices merging into a single harmony.
— Is this the boundary? — Flamen asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.
— There is no boundary, — the one who was no longer Empty said quietly.
And it was the truth.
A Space That Writes Itself
Before them stretched an endless plain, but it was not empty. The ground was composed of shimmering symbols, signs that shifted every second. They resembled words, yet had no fixed form—as if the world was writing and rewriting itself, altering its own history.
— This place is the foundation of everything, — Emiren whispered. — Here, reality has not yet solidified.
Flamen touched the ground with his fingertips, and new symbols appeared—echoes of his thoughts, his doubts, his hopes.
— We shape this place with our presence, — he realized.
But the moment he spoke, everything around them changed.
Those Who Came First
The space trembled, and from the shadows—shadows that had once been mere echoes—figures emerged.
They were tall, their forms constantly shifting as if they existed in multiple states at once. Some bore features that resembled humans, while others were spirals of pure light.
— You are not the first to come here, — one of them spoke.
— But you may be the last, — another added.
— We seek the truth, — Emiren said.
— Truth exists only in what has already been defined, — the one standing before them replied. — And here, nothing is defined.
Flamen took a step forward.
— Then we wish to define it.
— You do not understand the nature of this place, — the being’s voice came from all directions at once. — Creation is not a right; it is a burden.
— We already bear it, — said the one who remembered his name.
The Final Trial
The light around them thickened, merging all colors into a single, blinding radiance.
And then the trial appeared.
Three visions formed before them—each a reflection of themselves, but as they could have been.
Emiren saw himself as a Creator who held absolute power over time, commanding its flow and altering history at will. His heart beat in sync with the rhythm of eternity, yet something in this vision felt fundamentally wrong.
Flamen saw himself as a destroyer—one who burned old realities to clear space for new possibilities. Black flames burned in his eyes, and in his hands, he held the ashes of obliterated worlds.
The one who remembered his name saw himself as empty—one who had abandoned choice, dissolved into chaos, and existed as nothing more than a shadow beyond time.
— This is a trap, — Emiren realized.
— No, — one of their testers countered. — These are your possible destinies. You must choose one.
— We will choose none, — Flamen said.
— We will create our own, — added the one who knew the truth.
And then the space trembled again.
A Path That Did Not Exist
The symbols on the ground disappeared.
The shimmering figures withdrew.
Before them, a road appeared—a narrow, nearly invisible path stretching into the distance.
— This was not meant to be, — said one of the beings that had tested them.
— But now it is, — Emiren replied.
They stepped forward.
And reality changed.