The realization hit me like a wave, crashing over every ounce of resistance I had left. I stood there, frozen, caught between the past and the terrifying future that was unfolding before me. My father's twisted figure loomed in the shadows, his hollow eyes staring directly into mine, his smile never fading.
I had always known. Deep down, I had always known that something dark was inside me—something ancient and powerful, something that had waited for the right moment to awaken. But to face it, to accept it, was a different matter entirely.
"You're wrong," I whispered, though my voice lacked the conviction I once had. The words felt hollow, empty.
"Am I?" my father's voice resonated, a cold echo that felt like it was coming from the depths of the void itself. "You've always known what you are, Psychobi. You've always known what you were meant to do. The truth is in you, in your very blood. It's always been in your blood."
I staggered backward, my hands trembling, but no matter how far I stepped, his presence remained—dense, suffocating, like a weight that pressed down on my chest, crushing me.
"Stop," I muttered, shaking my head, as though somehow I could dispel the image of my father. But the more I tried to push it away, the more it seemed to push back. The figure before me didn't fade. It only grew clearer, sharper.
My father's twisted smile widened. He reached out, and in a split second, I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. The touch wasn't real, but it was so real that I could feel it with every nerve in my body. I turned to face him, my legs trembling. The hunger—the desire to understand, to take it all in—had become unbearable, an almost physical ache deep inside my chest.
"The time has come, Psychobi," he whispered, his voice dripping with certainty. "The time for questions is over. You've come this far. It's your destiny. You can no longer escape it."
But I wasn't sure what he meant. Was this really my destiny? Was I truly meant for something this dark, this twisted? The questions whirled in my mind, but each one was suffocated by the overwhelming urge to understand, to accept, to let go of everything that had once held me back.
I turned my gaze back to the void, the gate still open behind me, the swirling darkness beckoning. The flicker of light in the distance pulsed with a rhythm, like a heartbeat, drawing me closer.
"The truth is not something you learn, Psychobi," my father continued, his voice echoing, now almost like a chant. "The truth is something you become. You already are the truth."
The ground shifted beneath me again, and I could feel the weight of the world, the weight of existence, pressing down. The hunger inside me intensified, clawing at my insides, urging me forward.
I knew what was waiting for me. I knew the price. And yet, I felt no fear. No hesitation.
I moved toward the gate, my legs trembling beneath me. The light in the distance flickered again, brighter now, and I could almost see what lay beyond it. My reflection in the gate seemed to change, twisting and distorting, until it was no longer my face at all. It was a monstrous version of myself, a grotesque caricature of what I had become, what I was about to become.
But it didn't scare me.
As I stepped through the gate, the world around me seemed to shift once more. The darkness, the void, consumed everything. The sound of my father's voice—his presence—faded into nothing. And then, all at once, I was plunged into silence.
There was no light. No sound. Just an endless abyss, stretching out in every direction. I could feel the darkness pressing in on all sides, its suffocating weight threatening to swallow me whole.
But then, something shifted.
A distant glow appeared in the distance, and I felt it—the pull again. That pull that had guided me here, that had driven me forward. The hunger, the need to know. I started walking toward the light, my footsteps echoing in the stillness. The air was heavy with something, but I couldn't place it—something cold, ancient, and familiar.
The closer I got, the more the light began to take shape. It was a figure, standing tall in the center of the abyss, its form outlined by an eerie glow. As I neared, I could see the details more clearly—its eyes, deep and endless, locked onto mine. The figure was humanoid, but it was unlike anything I had ever seen. Its body was shadowy, shifting, and formless, yet I could sense its power, its presence.
I stopped a few feet away, unsure whether to approach or retreat. But there was no retreat. There never had been.
The figure's mouth opened, and its voice filled my mind, though it spoke without words. I could hear it as though it were coming from inside me.
"You have come, Psychobi," the voice echoed. "You have crossed the threshold. You are ready."
Ready for what?
"Ready for the truth," the figure continued. "The truth that will set you free. The truth that will bind you forever."
I took another step forward, drawn in by the energy, the force, the sheer power that radiated from this being. There was nothing else now—nothing but the truth, nothing but the dark hunger that had driven me here.
I reached out, my fingers trembling, and touched the figure.
And then, the truth began to unravel.
________
Jabrane
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