"Unlike the others, this feels true to me," Aether murmured, his form coalescing from the unknown border of the realms. "I'm truly myself... returning to a place I know, not somewhere unfamiliar."
Aether's nails regained their worldly gleam, while the fine hair on his skin stood on end, charged with an energy that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the cosmos itself.
The hair on his head, once a cascading river of pure light, now took on a more tangible form, flowing like silk woven from starlight. His new incarnation beat back the pure light form that had once enveloped him, replacing it with something more... human.
Aether traversed the vast expanse, a silent witness to the universe's symphony. Each staggering sight hammered home his insignificance.
Ahead, a colossal black hole devoured everything. Stars stretched into glowing threads, vanishing forever beyond its event horizon—a stark display of cosmic indifference.
Elsewhere, a supernova erupted. Radiant reds, blues, and purples painted the void as shockwaves rippled outward, scattering the seeds of new worlds.
He sped past galactic whirlpools—billions of stars swirling in spiral arms dotted with fierce young suns. At their cores, ancient stars danced around supermassive black holes in a delicate gravitational balance.
Finally, Aether glimpsed the edges of multiple universes: bubbles of reality pressed thin, some governed by physics utterly alien.
As a thought streaked into his mind—"Are those eras?"—he tried to make it work. He didn't see his era, but when he left it, it resembled that which he saw before him, before complete darkness.
"Heaven yet again," Aether said, his newly formed eyes filling with tears as he beheld the familiar sight. "The museum," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he neared it.
"I hate how I'm happy to see this place," he said, his voice wavering. "I miss my era, yet here I am, a trespasser feeling joy to see the place that stripped me of my home. Why?" The question hung in the air, unanswered, as Aether contemplated the contradictions of his own heart.
Yet even as he grappled with these emotions, Aether couldn't help but feel that his frustration was insignificant compared to the vast emptiness that separated the realms. The Void—a place of nothing, stretching beyond comprehension.
"I don't miss here!" Aether insisted, even as tears continued to stream down his face. His nostrils flared as he fought to control his breathing, but it was a losing battle.
Soon, he found himself bawling, unable to contain the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. The reason for his outburst remained a mystery, even to himself.
Seeking a distraction, Aether turned his gaze to witness another cosmic drama unfolding nearby. A black hole, insatiable in its hunger, began to devour a star. Despite the star's mighty size and the multitude of planets that depended on it, it was powerless against the black hole's gravitational pull.
As he watched this celestial struggle, questions arose in Aether's mind: Who was in the right? The light or the void? Why did the void consume everything in its path? Was it simply part of fate?
A voice from the recesses of his mind whispered, "The stronger seemingly wins, Leonardo."
"What? It's Aether..." he replied to the voice, embracing his new identity.
But doubts lingered. Aether... was my justification right? he pondered, as another star exploded in the distance. Was it all just another way of saying that nothing really mattered?
"Does it..." he mused, the question hanging in the vastness of space.
As Aether descended to the gates of the museum, he found himself grappling with the concept of time.
"Then what does my life equate to?" he wondered. "If I die and resurrect as another thing, another being—a person who will grow and experience things I can never conceive, their name plastered on things higher than a mere moon."
His musings were interrupted by a familiar voice.
Oh, it's my boss.
"That's just the way things are, Leonardo. You, a single person, don't have the right to question it," Tour Guide Milah said, opening the gates. He walked to where Aether sat at the edge of the museum, overlooking the vast emptiness beyond.
"I hate how big everything is... how everything seems to go on forever," Aether confessed. "Why can't I just have an adventure in a small town?"
Milah sighed, a hint of fondness in his voice. "I have no clue where your biggest fan is. I should take the blame, for it is my fault you are here. But Leonardo, the you from that era wouldn't think like this."
Aether turned to the tour guide, a question forming on his lips. "What does 'Aether' mean?"
Without hesitation, Milah replied, "The energy beyond the 21st realm. It constitutes everything. Still Rasvian energy, just... a different term for it."
"Why'd you ask?" Milah muttered suddenly.
"That's my new name," Aether replied.
"Aether..." Milah savored the word. "How'd you think of that now?"
"Through dying," Aether replied. "I wish I didn't," he finalized.
Milah regarded Aether, his gaze deep and ancient. A stillness settled between them, thick with cosmic weight.
"Death," he began, his voice low and resonant, "is not a specter to be feared. It is the final brushstroke. The closing note." His eyes sharpened with a subtle intensity. "An end does not erase meaning, Aether—it creates it."
Another deliberate pause stretched.
"Without an end... there is no story. No beginning. No middle. No end," he emphasized, "Death is the end that transforms mere existence... mere happening... into a life. A complete work."
Milah leaned infinitesimally closer, the word dropping like a stone into still water:
"A masterpiece."
Silence reclaimed the space, vast and listening.
"And know this," Milah continued, his voice softening yet piercing.
"Death walks beside you. Always. A silent companion you can never escape..." His gaze held Aether's, timeless and inescapable. "...from your first breath... until the moment your soul's light... gently... fades."
Aether turned to Milah, a spark of defiance in his tear-streaked eyes.
"Let death come. My fear is leaving nothing built." He pointed backwards towards the museum gates and the chaos beyond.
"You understand it now?" Milah asked, amused.
"No, far from it. I'll have to be my own teacher going forward."
"Then tell me, Uninvited Guest—what grand delusion drives you now?" Milah asked, his smirk sharpened by curiosity and something older.
"To build something that outlives me—through knowledge, through journey. To understand the realms, not to conquer them, but to learn how to live within them. That's how I'll find purpose. Knowledge is the fruit. Cautiously, yes, but unceasingly."
"Is that the only thing that matters to you?"
"Far from,"
Aether then stood up, waving toward Milah, who waved back.
As Aether disappeared through the gate, Milah stood there, perplexed.
"When did we have such a bond?" he wondered aloud. His gaze followed the path Aether—once Leonardo—had taken, watching as he stood at the edge of reality itself.
"That boy won't live long," Milah murmured, concern threading his voice. "He's far too driven. A simple life, then death—that would be kinder than what he's facing. He's already known this pain in another life." With a weary sigh, he stepped forward, walking across the very fabric of space itself.
Unlike Aether, who floated weightlessly, Milah's feet touched an invisible surface, causing the space beneath to glitter with each step.
Suddenly, a door materialized before him. "Ah, didn't expect to see you here..." Milah said to an unseen presence as the door swung open.
He stepped through, and the portal closed behind him, leaving only the vast, star-studded expanse of the cosmos in his wake.
"Your employee died. You should really tell him the rules," Ghost said, voice soft but pointed.
"I'd rather not. Even if I did, I'd rather he learn it at his own pace," Milah responded, his tone guarded.
"You really want that boy to face unnecessary trouble," Ghost countered.
"Not too much, just enough to see the true nature of the realms. That's all he needs," he replied, waving Ghost off.
"He'll return to —— soon," Ghost murmured.
"Yeah, and that era too... Maybe I'll send another there," Milah mused.
"You want to send him to an era? Why?" Ghost responded. Skepticism crept into their voice.
"I mean, eras change—they shift on a whim. There's an uncountable number of them, infinite, and I can't handle all of them on my own," Milah explained.
"You're not though?" Ghost replied, his suspicion growing.
"I needed a partner, so to speak, and Aether came knocking. Ghent would make a perfect tutorial—no, actually, the entirety of the first realm would."
"You're going to lose it one day," Ghost muttered.
"I don't take opinions from newcomers. You've only been here for the last four thousand years, intern."
"I've grown since then. I don't have the same power I once did; this is compensation," Ghost said, his tone softening as he continued. "The old me would've taken you up on that offer."
"Offer? What offer?" he asked, a hint of confusion lacing his words.
"How great I tried to make my life," Ghost said, stepping into the room as darkness wrapped around them. It slowly receded, revealing 105 chairs spiraling upward in a grand, ascending order.
The Council Dimension (Sages' Assembly)
"Some aren't even here…" it muttered, glancing around. Above, the ceiling shimmered in a purple light, blending seamlessly with the dark hues of the chairs. Numbers were etched into each seat, starting from 105 at the bottom. The highest chair—number 1—stood at the peak.
"I shouldn't even be here," Milah finally said to Ghost before floating toward the radiant light above. "There are only five tour guides. We just need a small table," he added before disappearing into the purple glow.
Ghost lingered at the base, sighing. "The last is always the first."