A chilling stillness, heavy and absolute, pressed against Johan's ears as he opened his eyes. The infinite white space, a void stretching in every direction and swallowing all sense of up and down, immediately establishes a strong sense of mystery and unease. He floated, disoriented, a knot of panic tightening in his chest. The memory of the blinding flash and the jarring impact that had knocked him unconscious remained fresh. And now, this. This silent, featureless expanse felt far more terrifying than anything he'd faced before, precisely because of its utter unknown. This immediate immersion into an alien environment is effective.
The air, if it could be called air, was strangely weightless, almost thick, and carried a faint, metallic tang that lingered on the edge of his awareness. There was no warmth, no cold, no sensation at all beyond the unsettling feeling of being adrift in nothingness. "Will I ever get out of here?" The question echoed in his mind, unanswered. "Will I ever see my mother again?" A wave of longing, sharp and painful, washed over him. He imagined her worried face, her gentle hands. He had to get back to her. But how? All sorts of frantic thoughts spiraled through his mind, a chaotic storm of fear and desperation. He was utterly alone, lost in a place where the rules of reality seemed to have dissolved, leaving only the terrifying, blank canvas of the void. Johan's internal turmoil and yearning for his mother create an emotional connection.
Just as his panic reached a peak, a black, humanoid shadow materialized before him, as if it had always been a part of the infinite white, simply now visible. Johan's breath hitched, his small body recoiled. Panic surged anew, even stronger than before. He let out a choked scream, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate, futile attempt to propel himself away from the figure in the weightless expanse. The dramatic entrance of the shadow figure significantly raises the stakes and tension.
"Relax, Johan," the figure's voice resonated, a low hum that seemed to vibrate in the air around him, carrying a hint of ancient weariness. "I have no intention of harming you. If I intended you harm, your universe would have ceased to exist the moment I appeared. So, please," a slight pause, "just relax." The Singularity's opening lines immediately establish its immense power and a sense of detached calm, creating a stark contrast with Johan's fear.
Johan's breath hitched again, a small, sharp sound in the oppressive stillness. His eyes, wide and reflecting the strange light of the place, suddenly stopped darting around. He froze, suspended in the nothingness. "Who... who are you? Where am I? Why did you bring me here? Can I go home?" A torrent of questions, remarkably coherent for a five-year-old, tumbled out, revealing his desperate attempt to grasp his impossible predicament. Johan's reaction feels authentic for his age, a mix of terror and a child's directness.
"You ask good enough questions for someone of your intelligence and age, Johan. As for who I am, I am what you call, in your language, a Singularity. Do you understand what that means? I am a being comparable to Primordials, and even surpass them in some aspects," the Singularity said, and in the blink of an eye, two simple grey marble thrones appeared. It settled onto one with a subtle rustle that seemed out of place in the silence. It was impossible to discern if the thrones were created before or after it sat, or if they had always existed, waiting. The thrones resembled simple grey marble, with ample hand rests, but it would be foolish to assume their material was mere marble. Perhaps they were formed from the compressed essence of dying stars or the event horizons of black holes; who could say? Johan found himself seated on the other throne. The Singularity's explanation and the effortless creation of the thrones emphasize its otherworldly nature and power.
"Singularity, Primordial—what do those even mean? Please answer my questions and let me go please," said Johan, his voice trembling slightly. Johan's continued plea highlights his vulnerability and desire to return home.
"The funny thing is, even knowing the name 'Primordial' would grant them complete knowledge of you. My presence shields you from their annoying omniscience. As for me, don't you understand? I am a Singularity. There is nothing like me, nor can there ever be. And as for why I am here, the simple reason is: I am bored," said the Singularity, its tone flat, as if stating a universal truth. The Singularity's nonchalant admission of boredom as its primary motivation is both surprising and intriguing.
"Bored? What do you mean, and what does that have to do with me?" asked Johan, his brow furrowed in confusion. Johan's confusion is a natural reaction to the Singularity's unexpected reason.
"Johan, you have no concept of how I perceive time, or maybe you might in the future. I existed before time itself, let alone your young universe. You cannot comprehend the burden of my boredom. Unlike other Singularities, who pursue goals which I find mostly idiotic, I lack such distractions. I suppose that makes me unique, even among Singularities," said the Singularity, its gaze drifting upward, as if even the infinite white above held more interest than the current conversation. This further elaborates on the Singularity's unique predicament and its vast, incomprehensible existence.
"Okay, Mr. Singularity. Now that I understand, can you please let me go? My mother will be worried, and I have nothing to offer you," said Johan, a hint of pleading in his voice. Johan's continued focus on his mother underscores his innocence and emotional core.
"Don't worry. As I said, no harm will come to you. And don't fret about your mother; this is a timeless space. You could spend the entire span of existence here, yet when you return, you will arrive at the same moment. And Johan, you do have something to offer: entertainment for my boredom. So, let's do something amazing, shall we?" said the Singularity, a flicker of something akin to amusement in its voice. The Singularity's explanation of the timeless nature of the space and its direct statement about Johan's purpose create a pivotal moment in their interaction.
"Okay, but what do you mean by 'entertainment'? What do you want me to do for your entertainment?" asked Johan, his initial fear slowly giving way to a cautious curiosity. Johan's shift from pure fear to cautious curiosity shows his adaptability.
"I don't know. Perhaps kill all the Primordials, though it's nigh impossible, trust me, I've tried." A faint sigh, almost imperceptible, seemed to emanate from the shadowy figure. "They simply refuse to die. Their existence is beyond the concepts they provide to reality—soul, time, space, darkness, light, etc. Even if someone destroys reality, they persist, planning and acting for their so-called future reality. I must admit, at the very least, they are less boring than others. Or perhaps you could venture into nothingness and find something interesting; who knows? But you can be sure of this: as long as you live, I will be with you, seeing your journey," said the Singularity. This provides more context about the Primordials and the Singularity's past attempts at alleviating its boredom, highlighting the extraordinary nature of the beings involved.
"But why me, of all people?" asked Johan, a sense of unease creeping back into his voice. Johan's question is a natural progression, seeking to understand why he was chosen.
"Because you have the most interesting or the most tragic future—can't really tell, my intuition suggests that to me," said the Singularity. The Singularity's reliance on intuition, despite its immense power, adds another layer of complexity to its character.
"You have intuition? Aren't you a Singularity, a being comparable to beings you call Primordials, as you say? Can't you just see my future?" asked Johan, his eyes wide with disbelief. Johan's disbelief is understandable given the Singularity's earlier claims.
"Why do you think only humans have intuition? Also, my intuition is not the same as yours. Your crude language cannot even utter what it's called, let alone explain higher-level concepts. And regarding your future, why see it when I can experience it? If I wanted to see the future, I couldn't, because of the Primordials; they have restricted that from happening even for themselves for some secret plans of theirs. Also, I personally don't want to, because of boredom. Long ago, I decided not to see the future, but rather to live in it. That way, it's more entertaining. I can't even kill myself to get rid of the boredom; all the other Singularities and Primordials would stop me," said the Singularity, a hint of exasperation in its tone. This expands on the Singularity's nature, its relationship with other powerful beings, and its deliberate choice to experience rather than foresee.
"Why can't you control how you experience boredom? Just change the state of your mind. My father taught me this is a way people use when fighting; they just will themselves to think a certain way," said Johan, his young mind trying to apply logic to an incomprehensible being. Johan's innocent attempt to offer a solution highlights the vast difference in their understanding of existence.
"Child, if only that was possible. Even happiness becomes boring at a certain point. Also, even if I stop feeling or thinking, my very existence will find a way to get bored. I guess this is my eternal curse—boredom," said the Singularity, a sense of profound weariness evident even in its shadowy form. The Singularity's response emphasizes the depth and inescapable nature of its boredom.
"So what should I do now? I don't have any good knowledge about the world. Can you help me with that? My dad didn't tell me much," said Johan, a note of vulnerability in his voice. Johan's request for guidance underscores his helplessness and reliance on the Singularity.
"Don't you worry about that. Why do you think we are having this conversation? I am essentially a part of you now, since I won't ever stop you from getting killed. I can give you abilities beyond understanding, even I can't use those—some of it from genius, some that I have made, some that could be considered as singularity level because only 1 person will ever wield them. Regarding your universe, what your guys call mana and its sentient nature and the sacrifice it demands, I can tell you it was created by a 7th-dimensional being. I guess he was experimenting," said the Singularity with a smile that didn't quite reach its unseen eyes. The Singularity's offer of immense power and the revelation about the creation of mana add significant world-building elements.
"Sacrifice? I guess that's why adults behaved in that manner. Mr. Singularity, can you remove this sacrifice thing, please, since you are so powerful?" said Johan with a pleading look. Johan's understanding of the "sacrifice" hints at potential societal issues in his world.
"I can, but I won't, because it won't be fun. Regardless, what kind of ability do you want? I can help you in that sense," said the Singularity, its amusement returning. The Singularity's refusal to remove the sacrifice reinforces its self-serving motivation.
Johan, clearly dejected after hearing the response, said, "I don't know what to choose, but I think something that will make me smarter so I get to learn fast and help my parents." Johan's choice reveals his selfless nature and desire to return to and help his family.
When the Singularity heard this, a little smirk, unknown to Johan, flickered across its shadowy features. "I knew you would say something like that. You have the blood of a beast known for its intelligence, which was injected into you by your parents when you were a baby, hoping you would get some of its ability. But that won't suffice, would it, for a singularity partner like me, right? I will give you something even better." The Singularity seemed to consider Johan for a moment. "Yes... something far greater."
"What? Blood? My parents injected me with some beast blood? I don't know why they did so, but they wouldn't do something to harm me. I am sure of that," said Johan, his voice filled with confusion and uncertainty. His eyes searched the Singularity's shadowy form for answers.
The Singularity's wide grin remained. "They did it because they loved you, in their own way, hoping to give you an edge. But that was a mere drop in the ocean compared to what you will become. Your desire to understand, your loyalty to your parents despite this revelation… it shows a capacity for knowledge and a depth of character that deserves more than just a beast's intellect. Therefore," the Singularity declared, its voice resonating with power, "I will give you the true power of knowledge. You will be known as the Omniscient Umaran."
Johan stared at the Singularity, his small face a mixture of bewilderment and a dawning sense of something immense happening to him. The title echoed in the silent white space, heavy with an unknown significance. What did it mean to be the Omniscient Umaran?