The moment Mirshad stepped through the door, the world changed. There was no ground beneath his feet, no light above, no sky to hold him. Yet he did not fall. He walked… on nothing. The space around him was white — not glowing, not dead, just endless, a stillness that stretched beyond thought.
He looked down. There was no shadow. No footprint. No dust. He raised his wrist, but the watch had stopped. He touched his chest and felt his heartbeat slow, yet there was no fear of dying. He was existing in a place untouched by time. "Where am I…" he whispered, but the realm gave no answer. Instead, something deep within him hummed softly, not from the air, but from the core of his being.
Far ahead, something began to take form. Not a mountain. Not a building. Not even a shape at first just a presence. As he moved forward, it became a floating sanctuary with no base and no ceiling, its walls made of shifting light, breathing with awareness as if it was watching him… or waiting. He stepped inside.
The walls were alive with visions. Not windows. Not mirrors. Memories. One showed a battlefield under a green sky. Another showed a storm of white fire devouring a city that did not exist on Earth. Another showed him — not as he was now, but as something beyond man. Clad in silver and white, floating instead of walking, eyes burning with galaxies, a voice that could silence lightning. "Is this who I was?" he asked quietly. The wall whispered, You were more than a name. You were a balance. A silence between chaos and creation.
At the heart of the temple floated a throne, not of stone or gold, but of living light, pulsing like a heartbeat long forgotten. He approached but did not sit. The throne responded on its own, wrapping him in a faint halo, not to claim or control him, but to recognize him. You do not remember. But the throne remembers you. Every silence… carries your echo.
Then the realm shifted again, revealing two paths. In front of him, a tear in the white opened into a deep rift leading to darkness. Not evil, just unknown. Behind him, the doorway that would take him back to the pyramid above. Two doors. Two choices. And a whisper rose from somewhere inside his own mind. To go forward is to lose the man I've become. To go back is to forget what I've seen.
He closed his eyes. He was not ready for power. Not ready for memory. But he was ready for truth. He took a single breath… and stepped forward. He did not awaken his divinity. He did not reclaim his past. But in the realm between what was and what is, he chose to walk deeper into the silence where even gods hesitate to listen.