The golden power appeared out of nowhere.
Yet, as weird as it was, where else could it come from in a dimension of perfect nothingness?
It then surged forth and fused with the words I've just written, bestowing them with a golden shine that made the text stand out even more than the system box itself.
But it wasn't just the color of the words that changed.
They've grown more vibrant, more tangible, more… real. As if it wasn't a surge of a weirdly familiar power but an injection of essence that took the words from just some crude paintings with commonly agreed-on meaning to the very essence of the meaning they were supposed to hold.
As if the container suddenly became the very thing that it was designed to hold. Instead, it all happened on a plane that couldn't be any further from a physical one, making it all feel all the more ephemeral.
And then there was me, standing frozen in place, gawking at the golden letters with eyes open so wide, my disbelief couldn't be any clearer.
