The corridor into the unknown bloomed with kaleidoscopic light—fluid and alive, shifting in rhythm to some deep, invisible current. It didn't feel like travel, not in any traditional sense. Aouli wasn't moving through space so much as he was unfolding across it, like a page being turned in a multidimensional book.
He felt his consciousness stretch and bend as he passed through, sensation folding inward and outward. Time seemed to ripple. There were moments—if they could be called that—where he existed in a blur of voices and colors, languages he couldn't understand but instinctively recognized as speech, as memory, as laughter and screams.
Then—like a breath drawn too long—the light narrowed.
And everything exploded into place.
The corridor spilled them out into an impossible space: the Crossroads.
Aouli blinked—if blinking was something his light-born eyes could do—and tried to comprehend what lay before him.
It was a city and not a city. A gathering of structures that floated and spun in layers, suspended in a gravityless void. Towers of gleaming obsidian twisted upward in lazy spirals, tethered to vast crystalline platforms shaped like inverted domes. Entire gardens of floating bioluminescent vegetation pulsed with gentle light, hovering in orbs of transparent atmosphere. Bridges of stardust arced between realms of iridescent geometry that defied Euclidean rules—triangles that formed squares, staircases climbing into themselves.
And it was alive. Everywhere, beings moved. Not just humans—not even mostly humans. There were tall, birdlike creatures cloaked in vaporous robes that shimmered like oil slicks in moonlight. Enormous crystalline lifeforms rolled gently across floating pathways, communicating in low, harmonic pulses that made Aouli's chest hum. Shadows with eyes walked beside creatures that shimmered between forms, sometimes insectoid, sometimes smoke, always in motion.
Some beings glided. Some hopped. Some flickered in and out of existence as though flicking through realities. And yet none of them moved with confusion. All knew where they were going.
Elysia watched Aouli with quiet amusement. "This is the Crossroads. It is not a place, exactly. More a moment that lingers. An interdimensional convergence—where multiversal travelers intersect."
"It's… alive," Aouli said, stunned.
"Every being here is between," she nodded. "Between destinations. Between choices. Between selves. That's why it's called the Crossroads. It's not where people live—it's where they decide."
Aouli's gaze drifted to a nearby being—tall, with a smooth, bark-like body and a glowing blue face like polished glass. It passed through Aouli without alarm, offering a soundless nod. He instinctively bowed back.
Elysia guided him across a narrow ribbon of hovering light—a kind of bridge that connected their floating platform to another. Below them, or perhaps above them, entire islands of habitat floated lazily: temples made of music, ships shaped like birds of prey, and massive signs that glowed in alien languages.
"What… are they all doing here?" he asked.
"Trading. Learning. Choosing. Seeking," Elysia said. "Some are refugees, fleeing collapsing realities. Others are on pilgrimages to divine cores of wisdom. A few…" She hesitated for the first time, a sliver of tension slipping into her tone. "A few are here to manipulate. To corrupt. To conquer."
Aouli looked sharply at her. "Why allow them here?"
"Because no realm exists without its shadows," she said calmly. "The Crossroads reflects the multiverse. Imperfect. Diverse. Honest."
Aouli was silent, absorbing the enormity. The Earth had been the only world he'd known, and even its complexity now seemed narrow in comparison to this. Here, difference wasn't an anomaly—it was the foundation.
As they moved through the plaza of shifting platforms, Aouli began to pick up on small moments—two sentient clouds debating the ethics of energy absorption; a group of tiny mechanical beings sharing a glowing fruitlike object that sparked with time itself; a hulking figure made of bones weeping silently into a dark, still pool.
It wasn't chaos. It was choreography.
"What happens if I fail?" Aouli asked suddenly.
Elysia turned. "You will. Many times."
Her words were not cruel. They were factual. Measured.
"And if I… lose myself?" he pressed.
"Then someone else must find you," she said simply.
A distant bell tolled—not a sound, exactly, but a shift in pressure that resonated like chimes underwater. Around them, several beings turned toward a flickering archway that had just formed at the edge of the plaza.
"The Crossroads," Elysia said, "offers you a chance to observe before you act. To learn the multiverse not from books, but from footsteps. You will see both beauty and horror. You will find allies, and you will be tested. This place will become your compass."
Aouli stared out across the horizonless realm, a thousand decisions swirling just out of reach. He understood now why Gaia had released him into this.
Because Earth had never been alone in its suffering.