"It's the only way to bend fate."
Her long, jet-black hair spilled down her back like a curtain of ink, the strands too smooth, too perfect as if untouched by time.
It shimmered faintly in the colorless world, the only movement in a scene where even the clouds stood still.
A black blindfold was wrapped around her eyes, covering them completely. The fabric looked ancient, threadbare in places, frayed at the edges, yet it radiated an oppressive weight, as if it concealed more than just her sight.
Runes faintly pulsed beneath the surface, too dim to read but too deliberate to be dismissed as fray.
Despite her blindness, her head moved with quiet precision, turning to face Sol directly.
As though she could see more clearly than anyone with eyes.
Her skin was pale, like ivory washed under moonlight, unmarred and smooth. Her features were elegant, serene even, but sharp enough to feel dangerous. High cheekbones, a slender nose, and lips curved in a subtle, knowing smile.
It wasn't a smile of kindness, but of someone who had seen far too much.
"Nice to meet you, Sol. I know you have many questions but don't worry I am here to answer most of them. So what do you want to know first."
Sol was a mess.
His body was trembling, not from fear, though there was plenty of that too, but from sheer exhaustion.
But worse than the exhaustion was the confusion.
His mind felt like it was trying to stitch reality back together with trembling fingers. One moment, he had been in a castle, dying, definitely dying, and the next he was clawing his way through endless darkness, only to be dropped into this frozen nightmare.
And now, the world had stopped. Frozen in time. And there was another person lying beneath the shadow assassin.
A body with white hair and golden eyes nothing about that man seem familiar except the expression of desparation which right now mirrors his own.
Everything was wrong.
Somehow, Sol knew he is still alive.
Still alive, and standing face to face with a woman he had never seen before. A blind woman on a gravestone, who spoke of bullshit like strength and fate.
Sol knew this Woman is strong. Sol had spent his life amoung strong people.
People how think they are above all and the other like Sol are just incest beneath them.
But even though he is wary of her, he need answers.
He took a breath, found a sliver of courage, and asked,
"Who are you?"
"A good start. Well.. I don't have a specific name but if want to know what am I. The answer is I am void."
"Void?"
"A part of it to be exact."
"What is Void?"
"The Void is not just a place, it was an absence. A realm beyond reality where time, space, and form held no meaning. It stretches endlessly, a suffocating sea of darkness devoid of light, sound, or warmth. There is no ground beneath one's feet, no sky above, only an oppressive, infinite expanse where the laws of nature unraveled."
He frowned."But you said you are void. But you are just a.... person."
"It is a long story. Not very long actually but now I think the crack is selaed why don't we sit and talk."
As the eerie gray stillness of the shattered world held its breath, everything around Sol, the frozen shadows, the bleeding moon, the broken sky, began to dissolve like dust.
The world didn't shatter, it simply faded, as if someone was gently erasing a painting with careful hands.
The cold, lifeless gray bled into warmth.
A soft breeze brushed against Sol's cheek, carrying with it the scent of blooming jasmine and earth after rain. The oppressive silence was replaced by a gentle rustling of leaves, a distant birdsong, and the quiet gurgle of water flowing over smooth stone.
And then, light.
Not the harsh, blinding light of the fractured sky, but a golden, comforting glow that bathed everything in serenity.
Sol blinked, and when his eyes adjusted, he found himself standing barefoot on soft grass, not the brittle moss of before, but lush and cool underfoot.
Before him stretched a vibrant garden, wild yet harmonious, as though nature had chosen beauty over control.
There were towering trees with silver leaves, flowers in impossible colors swaying to music only they could hear, and butterflies that shimmered like fragments of dreams.
In the center of it all stood a small round table carved from smooth white marble, surrounded by two ornate wooden chairs, one of which was already occupied.
It was the blind woman.
She sat with grace, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap, and her head tilted ever so slightly as if listening to the rhythm of the wind.
A porcelain teacup steamed in front of her.
As Sol stared, trying to comprehend the sudden, impossible shift, her lips curved into a knowing smile, calm, mysterious, and just a little amused.
"Take a seat, Sol," she said softly. "We have much to talk about."
Sol's eyes narrowed as he looked at the woman. Everything about her felt wrong, not threatening, but unknowable.
And that scared him more than blades and blood ever could.
She hadn't moved, hadn't made any aggressive gesture, but her mere presence twisted something deep inside him. Still… if she meant to harm him, she had countless chances.
His steps were slow, heavy with doubt, but he made his way to the chair across from her.
The grass didn't crunch beneath him. In fact, he wasn't sure his feet even touched the ground properly. Everything still felt distant, like a dream or an echo.
When he finally sat, the chair didn't creak, didn't shift under his weight.
It was like the world barely acknowledged his existence.
That realization made his stomach twist.
"You asked why I call myself void. But I am not the Void in its entirety. Only a fragment, a sliver of what it actually was".
She paused.
"Long ago, before your people wrote their first words in stone… before even time had meaning the way you know it now, there were beings," she said. "Ancient, terrible, and divine."
"The gods you pray to now? They were merely echoes of those who came before. The Primordials, deities that were neither good nor evil. They simply were Forces beyond comprehension. And among them were those too dangerous to be allowed to roam freely."
"But they could not be slain. Not by sword, not by spell, not even by their own kind. Death meant nothing to them."
She lifted her hand, and the tea rippled without touch.
"So the ancients created a prison. Not of metal or stone. But of Void."
"They stole a fragment of the true Void, pure, untouched by creation, and shaped it into a cage. They poured divinity into it, bound it with unbreakable laws. I am that prison. This body is just my avatar, a way for me to speak to you."
She turned her blindfolded gaze toward Sol.
"And as time passed, the Void changed. It gained awareness. A sliver of sentience. It began to understand what it was and what it had become. And with that consciousness came a purpose: to continue its role as the warden. To ensure that all those entities sealed within remain forever bound. That they never return."
She folded her hands again and tilted her head.
"Now tell me, Sol. Are you ready to know why you're here?"