As he walk through the path, the feeling of the voice intensified, not louder, but clearer, more focused on him. It feel less like a distant call and more like a guiding hand, warm and steady. It isn't just showing the way; it feel like it is preparing him, resonating with his own inner core, the bright white aura around his void form responding to the pull.
The path led him deeper into the garden, past ancient, gnarled trees that seemed to hum with quiet energy, their blossoms the colour of dawn. He pass other soul-beings, serene in their own existences. Some pause their slow movements to turn their heads (or where heads would be) towards him as he pass, their varied auras flaring slightly, a silent acknowledgment that he is on a different kind of trajectory than their own. There is no fear, no judgement, only quiet observation. He is a new arrival, following the call to the centre.
The Palace loom larger as he approach. Its sheer scale is mind-bending. From a distance, it seem impossibly tall; up close, it feel like it is the sky, rooted to the earth but inseparable from the cosmos above. Its structure isn't made of stone or metal, but of light and concept solidified. Runes glow faintly along its base, not etched but inherent, vibrating with power. The heavenly aura that surrounded it from afar is overwhelming up close, a feeling of pure, benevolent force.
The path led directly to a grand, arching entrance – not a door, but an opening where the light seemed to gather and pour outwards. The voice, which had guided him, now seemed to emanate from within this opening, a silent, overwhelming presence that feel like the source of everything in this realm.
He stop at the threshold, his void-body humming with anticipation, his white aura thrumming in response to the immense energy field before him. The 'voice' intensifie, resolving from a general pull into a direct communication targeted solely at him. It isn't a language he could parse with earthly understanding, but a flood of pure knowing, washing over his consciousness.
You are here.
The feeling was warm, welcoming. Answered the resonance.
His mind, unbidden, sent back a question, a feeling of confusion and wonder:
Why? What is this place? What am I?
The immediate response, a cascade of information, not in words, but in interconnected concepts, images, and pure understanding. This realm is a nexus, a gathering point for consciousnesses that has reached a certain state – transcended physical form, perhaps, or achieved a specific vibrational frequency. The vortex hasn't been random destruction, but a targeted extraction, a response to the state of him essence as he sift through the core of his being in those final conscious moments before the tear. The peaceful memory, the scent of rain, has been a signal, a frequency that resonated with this place. He hasn't been lost; he has been found.
This place is The Garden of origin, a sanctuary and a transition point. The monuments are not buildings, but anchors for universal principles, solidified ideals that stabilized the fabric of this reality. The Palace is the heart – not a dwelling, but a core consciousness, a collective awareness of the realm itself, the source of the voice, the 'Keeper' of the Garden.
The other souls are not random wanderers. They are consciousnesses processing, learning, integrating, preparing for their next stage of existence. Some are resting, some are studying the anchored principles, some are simply existing in the harmonious energy flow. They are all on their own paths, just as this is now beginning him.
Your form, the feeling continued, referring to his void-body with its white aura, is your essence made manifest here. The void is the potential, the source of all things. The aura is the refined energy of your soul, your unique frequency. It is a state of readiness.
Readiness for what? I Projected back,
a mix of awe and curiosity filling him.
For contribution, the voice-feeling flowed back. For understanding. For participation in the larger currents of existence. You were drawn here because your frequency indicated potential beyond simple transition. You have choices now. To rest and integrate. To study the principles. Or to walk a path of active purpose within the Garden, or perhaps, eventually, beyond.
The vastness of the options overwhelmed him. He does not just saved; he recruit, offered a place and purpose in a reality beyond anything he could have imagined. The scent of peach blossoms seemed sweeter, the light from the cosmic sky brighter, the hum of the Palace more profound. His little memory of rain on warm earth had somehow led him here, to the edge of everything, to a new beginning in a body made of void and light, called by the voice of a cosmic garden.
He stand at the threshold of the Palace, bathed in its overwhelming aura, the silent, knowing presence of the Keeper before him. The path he has followed had led him here, to this moment of profound revelation and boundless potential. The journey has just begin. He inhale, or feel the sensation of inhaling, the essence of this place, and waited for the next unspoken guidance, ready to step into the heart of the Garden.
The voice. It isn't a vibration through air, or a soundwave hitting an ear. It is… implanted. A thought, a feeling, resonating deep within the core of his void-body, somewhere that felt like the echo of his old consciousness resided. It is a gentle pull, like a silken thread drawing him forward, utterly irresistible and yet devoid of force. Follow, it seem to say, without using any word he know. Come.
And then, before him, the impossible landscape shifted. The ethereal fog that blanketed the ground, usually a swirling, incandescent mist that obscured everything beyond a few yards, begin to thin. It doesn't dissipate; rather, it draw back, like a curtain being pulled aside by an unseen hand, revealing a clear, shimmering path that wound its way between the colossal monuments and through groves of glowing trees. The air, or whatever frictionless medium he exist within, feel different along this path – clearer, charged with a subtle energy that hummed with the same frequency as the distant voice.
He begin to move. It isn't walking, not in the heavy, earthbound sense he remember. It is more of a glide, a serene drift just above the surface of the receding fog. His body – this form of deep, starless void outlined by a halo of pure white soul-light – felt weightless, effortless. Each movement was a thought made manifest, a simple go forward translating instantly into motion.
As he glid along the newly cleared path, the sheer scale of this place washed over him again, amplified by the clarity. The peach blossom trees aren't just beautiful; their petals aren't just pink. They pulse with their own soft, inner light, raining down like slow, drifting embers that never reached the ground, dissolving into the fog before they landed. The air is fragrant, not with the scent of flowers, but with something cleaner, sharper, like ozone mixed with pure tranquility.
The monuments… they defied description. They are so tall they seemed to scrape the lower edge of the cosmic panorama above, their forms simultaneously ancient and impossibly futuristic. Some are sleek, spiraling towers that hummed with silent power. Others are vast, blocky structures carved with glyphs that shifted and rearranged themselves before his void-eyes, telling stories he couldn't comprehend but feel resonating in his soul-aura. They are made of materials that shimmered with impossible colours, absorbing and re-emitting the light of the cosmos above in dazzling, ever-changing patterns. One was a massive, crystalline tree, its branches reaching towards the stars, each facet catching the light and projecting intricate, dancing patterns onto the ground below. Another is a colossal ring, floating impossibly in the air between two peaks, through which distant nebulas seemed to flow like slow rivers of light.
And everywhere, there are others. The void-beings. They drifted through the groves, around the bases of the monuments, along paths that aren't yet cleared for him. They came in an astonishing variety of forms, yet all share the fundamental structure: the deep void inner, the coloured aura outer, the internal lights like captured stars. Some has humanoid shapes like him, but others are amorphous clouds of void, or intricate geometric patterns, or swirling vortices of darkness contained by vibrant auras of emerald green, sapphire blue, fiery red, or complex, shifting iridescence. Their internal stars or lights pulsed with different rhythms – steady glows, rapid flashes, slow beats like distant hearts.