When Albert stepped once more between worlds, he felt nothing beneath his feet. No ground. No abyss. No wind. It was as if reality itself hesitated to support him, fearing it might make a mistake before a being that needed no support.
Around him — there was no darkness, but no light either. No time, but no stasis. Only… vibration. A realm where only voice could travel, where words turned into matter, and thoughts into echoes.
An ancient murmur pierced the silence:
— What did you bring with you, you who carry no past?
Albert didn't answer immediately. His gaze searched for nothing — he already knew everything. But his silence shaped the space. Before him, a path began to form — not from stone, but from the unspoken words of beings who had once invoked him.
— You came alone, said a voice split from ten others.
— No, Albert answered calmly.
— I never come alone. You just don't see all of me.
At the end of the sound-made path, a figure appeared — made of unraveling musical notes. It had the face of a woman, but its features were in continuous composition. When she opened her mouth, the sound wasn't speech. It was harmony — a question sung:
— Do you know where you are?
Albert bowed his head slightly.
— Yes. I'm in the place even thoughts don't dare to touch.
— The place where the beginning refuses to be named.
The sound-woman bowed.
— Then, you have the right to request a memory.
— I don't need memories, he replied.
— It's not for you. It's for the world that forgot what you are.
From the undefined space, a branch of sound rose. At its tip, a fragment of voice: "I promise I won't become anything bad… I prooomise…"
Albert recognized it. Without blinking. Without closing his eyes.
— Enough, he whispered.
The branch withered. The voice fell silent. The world around took its first breath.
And a new voice, from the abyss, was heard:
— If you could silence your own promise… then you may see the next threshold.
In the distance, a sound gate began to vibrate. Each vibration sliced a sliver of illusion from the world.
Albert took a step. And the entire dimension bowed with him.
The sound gate continued to pulse, each vibration shaping the air into forms that defied description. It wasn't just a barrier. It was a question posed to reality itself — and the answer came only from the one who could turn it into a path.
Albert didn't need to touch it. His presence was already a key.
Still, he raised his hand. And with that simple gesture, the gate unraveled — not like a door opening, but like a melody giving its final note… then falling silent forever.
Beyond it: a chamber made of forgotten words. The letters floated, some broken, others whole, all vibrating with what seemed to be… unspoken prayers. Some from this world. Others, not.
Albert walked among them, and the letters moved aside — not out of fear, but respect.
In the center of the room, a figure slowly took shape. It had no face. It was a blend of what might have been and what once was. It looked at Albert and spoke in a whispering voice:
— You weren't supposed to reach this place.
Albert didn't answer.
— This place is only for those who have forgotten what they are… and are trying to remember.
— I remember everything, said Albert.
— Then why did you come?
Albert stopped. The answer wasn't a line of dialogue.
It was a gesture.
From his eyes — colorless, white — a ray emerged. And that ray didn't illuminate anything. But all the letters around aligned in silence, like soldiers recognizing a long-forgotten commander.
— I came to see what's left of the world… after it forgot the truth.
The figure trembled.
— Then… you are the final witness.
— And that means the world will be rewritten… according to what you see.
— No. I don't rewrite the world.
— Then who does?
Albert smiled.
— Those who look at me… and start asking questions.
Suddenly, the chamber began to dissolve. Not out of fear. But because it was no longer needed. The words that shaped it melted into a silent song and vanished.
And in that empty space, a new gate opened. One that could not be heard. One that had never been written.
Albert stepped toward it, unhurried.
And from somewhere, a child's voice asked:
— Is it far until home?
Albert paused.
And said quietly:
— No. We've only just left.
Eyes Open in Darkness
[Sealed Sanctuary of Words – Beneath the Living Archive]
In a room where even time no longer flows, a creature made of parchment skin and ink-blood lifted its head suddenly. It was the being that copied every word ever spoken — even those the world forgot before it heard them.
A white parchment floated before it. No ink. No symbols.
But Albert's voice — not spoken, only thought in silence — began to burn onto the page, etched into the fibers of time.
— "I came to see what's left of the world… after it forgot the truth."
The creature trembled.
— He has returned.
**
[Continent of Smoke – On the Steps of the Church of the Forgotten]
A young woman dressed in white, with a broken sigil on her forehead, suddenly rose from her knees.
— The one who does not ask for forgiveness… has spoken.
The priest behind her stepped back.
— And what did he say?
— That he forgot nothing.
— And yet, he asked as if he had.
**
[Plane of Living Shadows – Mouth of the Subconscious]
A circle of faceless beings began to unravel.
— He stepped into a place that does not exist.
— And recognized it without asking what it was.
One of the shadows tried to hide, but was drawn in by its own silence.
— What do we do?
— We erase ourselves. We have nothing left to show him.
**
[The Watcher's Tower – Chamber of Blind Mirrors]
Zhelenya stared into the final mirror at the end of the forbidden corridor. In it, nothing was reflected.
Kaelya appeared behind her, silent.
— Do you feel what I feel?
Zhelenya shook her head.
— No.
— But I feel this mirror can no longer deny him.
Kaelya closed her eyes.
— Then it means… his return is near.
The unwritten gate welcomed Albert with a vibration so subtle it would have gone unnoticed by anyone else. But to him, it was a direct invitation — the breath of the universe recognizing him not as a guest, but as the unofficial author of all possibilities.
When he stepped through it, no room opened.
Silence did.
A silence shaped like a labyrinth.
Every step he took generated a phrase behind him. Some from his childhood. Others from futures never lived. The walls of the labyrinth formed and dissolved based on his thoughts — not because he controlled them, but because this place constantly adapted to the one who needed no paths.
At one point, a woman's voice echoed from the living walls:
— Why do you keep walking, if you already know where you'll arrive?
Albert answered without pausing:
— Precisely because I know.
— Otherwise, everything would remain just a question.
Each of his answers opened a new direction.
In a corner of the labyrinth, a window formed. Beyond it, a scene from the past appeared — Zhelenya, hand bleeding, holding a broken mirror and saying: "If we lose him… not even mirrors will reflect anymore."
Albert looked at the scene without reacting. The window vanished immediately.
Farther in, an ancient voice said:
— If your voice can create paths, then what are you?
Albert stopped.
— I am the consequence of those who summoned me,
— and the choice of those who never understood me.
A cloud of light descended from the labyrinth's ceiling and compressed into a silhouette — an old man holding a lantern, but without any light.
— That's not an answer.
— Then why do you keep asking questions? Albert replied.
The old man smiled and dissolved into the air between silences.
The path opened again. This time, downward.
Albert smiled.
— Finally. Where thoughts end… and truth has nowhere left to hide.
Without hesitation, he stepped into the depths.
Albert descended. He wasn't stepping on stairs, nor walking on any surface. Each of his thoughts created an invisible step beneath him. The space around him grew denser, as if reality itself was trying to hold him back, to ask him to stop.
But he continued.
An echo followed him — not the echo of footsteps, but of intentions.
Each unspoken intent materialized around him as flickering spheres of light, murmuring:
— "What would you have been if you stayed?"
— "What would you have done if you had forgotten?"
— "Who would you be if you chose to be loved… not feared?"
Albert passed them without touching. But his eyes — now colorless — recorded them all.
In a place without direction, a voice from ancient times spoke:
— What you are doing now… no one else has ever done. Not even the one before you.
Albert raised an eyebrow.
— The one before me?
— The one who gave up descending.
— The one who stopped before reaching Absolute Silence.
— And what became of him?
— He became eternal… but in forgetting. No one can summon him anymore. Not even by name.
Albert closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, a single tear traced his cheek — but it wasn't his.
It was reality's.
He had reached the point where voice could no longer go further.
Here, only silent intention held power.
And Albert… went silent.
From that moment, space halted.
Everything.
The universe.
Time.
All.
And in that stillness… something began to form.
What was forming in that silence was not a thing. It was neither being nor concept. It was something that had never been conceived by anyone, not even by the Eternal Council.
It was a beginning. Not of a world.
But of a question that no longer wanted to be a question.
Albert now stood at the heart of silence. There was no light, no darkness. No shape, no echo.
Only him.
And in front of him — not a being, but a non-presence, with trembling edges. A living void, woven from fragments of abandoned desires, dreams never dreamt, and truths never lived.
And yet, that void recognized him.
— You have arrived, said a voice that was not a voice.
— In the place where even thought is a mistake.
Albert didn't answer. He simply existed.
— What do you seek here? asked the non-presence.
— There is no power here. No revelation. No form.
Albert stepped closer. And everything trembled.
Reality, lies, beginnings, and endings.
A word formed between them:
> "I AM."
Then, all the spheres that had followed him in his descent burst into beams of light.
And silence… spoke.
— You created an answer without a question.
— I didn't come for a question, Albert said.
— I came for what even questions can't reach.
In that moment, the void melted into a familiar shape.
It was the child from his past. The voice from the buried memory.
A reflection of a former self.
— Then I will no longer follow you, said the child.
— I will wait… where light doesn't know how to arrive.
Albert touched the child with one hand. And the image shattered into thousands of points of light. Each fragment raced back through the labyrinth, ascending toward reality.
And Albert…
…opened his eyes.
He was inside a temple. Not the Temple of the Nine.
But a temple beyond any registry of the world.
A place that hadn't existed before his step.
And in that place, a word written in stone pulsed beneath his feet:
> "CHOOSE."
On the Edge of Choice
—
[Central Academy – Watcher's Tower, Chamber of Echoes]
Kaelya suddenly stopped in the middle of the communication circle. The mirrors no longer vibrated. The crystal no longer pulsed.
Zhelenya, who had just opened her mouth to ask a question, froze.
— What happened? a young student asked.
Kaelya whispered, almost fearfully:
— He opened his eyes.
— Who?
Zhelenya answered for her:
— The one we can no longer look at directly.
—
[Sanctuary of the Silent Ones – Continent of Smoke]
Four faceless entities stopped in their tracks. One of them vanished entirely, without sound, without trace.
— What does this mean? another entity asked, only through vibration.
— He has reached the place where even we have no form.
— The place where… a choice can rewrite everything.
—
[Field of Old Oaths – 11th Layer of Reality]
An old scribe, with hands of smoke and eyes of dried ink, wrote a single sentence in the inverted sky:
> "He has become the answer."
—
[Eternal Council – In the Shadow of the Horizon]
The ninth chair, the empty one, vibrated slightly.
The eight silhouettes around the table said nothing.
But in the center of the table, the white light began to twist slowly.
Sypherion spoke, deliberately:
— If his step created a choice…
— Then even silence is no longer safe.
—
[Somewhere Below Reality – Between Fractures]
A shadow without a name, yet who had known the beginnings, stirred.
— Did he choose?
— No.
— He was presented with the choice.
— And?
— We are about to see… what follows.