"Why do people even live? What's the point if they're going to be just forgotten?"
"You think people live to be remembered?" a voice echoed.
Saral spun around. Nobody was there, just a shadow. Realization hit him when he checked around—he saw himself in shadow form too. The endless white void stretched in every direction, no walls, no ceiling, no floor he could see. Yet somehow they were suspended here, free to move but unable to leave.
"Most live for themselves," the shadow continued. "Little joys, stupid thrills, whatever comfort they can grab today."
"Well... maybe you're right, but who are you?" Saral asked, curiosity mixing with confusion. He tried to look around this impossible space—infinite white nothingness that somehow held them both. His heart pounded as the reality of his situation began to sink in. "Where are we?" Fear gripped him.
The shadow seemed to shift in the vast whiteness around them. "I've been trapped in this white room for days. You're the first person I've seen." The voice paused, and Saral could sense the other presence gesturing at the endless void. There was a note of loneliness in his tone. "Though 'room' isn't quite right, is it? It goes on forever, but we're still... here. Stuck but not stuck."
Saral's mind raced. "But how did you get here?" He tried to process this—another person, trapped like him, but for days. The thought of being alone in this void for that long made him shudder.
"I was travelling when I found a cave. Inside, there was this strange rune glowing on the wall. The moment I touched it..." The voice trailed off. "I ended up here."
"A rune?" Saral's voice was barely a whisper. "But where exactly is 'here'?"
"Who knows? I don't know," the shadow said with a hint of resignation while shaking his head. Saral could sense the frustration and helplessness in Nikolas's voice—days of being trapped with no answers would break anyone.
Saral's chest tightened as he tried to piece together how he'd gotten trapped here. After thinking for a moment, he asked, "You never told me your name when I asked..."
"Oh, my apologies. I'm Nikolas, from the city of Lores in the Kingdom of Valdoria."
Hearing these unfamiliar names, Saral felt his shadow form tense with shock. He wanted to jump back but couldn't figure out how to move properly in this strange white space. "What?" This was getting more bizarre by the minute. "I've never heard of those places," he said, curiosity overtaking his fear. "Are you sure you're from Earth? And who just goes exploring random caves while travelling anyway?"
Even in shadow form, Nikolas seemed surprised. Saral could sense him scratching the back of his head in confusion. "Earth? I've never heard of it. What about you—where are you from?" There was genuine bewilderment in his voice, as if Saral had just mentioned something out of the ordinary.
Saral hesitated, then said in a low tone, "I'm terrible at introductions, but I'm Saral, from India... on the planet Earth." The words felt strange coming out—he'd never had to specify his planet before.
The silence that followed felt heavy in the endless white void. Both shadows seemed to be processing this impossible revelation—they were from completely different worlds. Nobody knew what to do now.
After a while, Nikolas said, happily waving his hands, "Well, at least I have someone to talk to after being trapped for so long!" His relief was palpable—the loneliness had clearly been eating away at him.
Saral's anger flared. The casual way Nikolas dismissed his situation infuriated him. "You wanted me to be trapped in this space with you? Just so you'd have someone to talk to?" His voice rose with indignation.
"I didn't bring you here!" Nikolas snapped, panic creeping into his relief. "I swear!"
Saral let out a slow, shaky breath, the tension easing just a little. "…Seems like you're telling the truth."
"What even is a rune?" Saral asked, intrigue and frustration threading his voice. His scientific mind refused to accept any of it.
"Runes are artifacts—special symbols and signs drawn together to control mana..." Nikolas began, his voice taking on an almost teacher-like quality, as if explaining something completely basic.
"What is—"
Saral's question died in his throat as he suddenly found himself opening his eyes, gasping from a critical blow to his belly. As he struggled to stand and retaliate, he was blown apart into pieces. The first thought that crashed into his mind was: 'What the hell?'