Orion floated in a weightless void, his form barely more than a vague shimmer of light. Time had no meaning here—there was no up, no down, no air to breathe, no body to feel. Only thought existed.
And then the voice came again. Deep. Resonant. Ancient. It wasn't just heard—it pressed directly against the core of his being, as though vibrating through the fabric of his soul.
"You wish to know where you are?"
Orion's head—if he still had one—snapped toward the direction the voice came from. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Yes! Good sir, I would very much like to know where I am," he said quickly, the words spilling out before he could think twice. Politeness seemed like the safest approach when talking to something that could casually drag his soul out of… wherever dead people were supposed to go.
The voice hummed in approval, like a distant rumble of thunder across the mountains.
"When a person dies, their soul travels to the Soul Realm for refinement and reincarnation. This is the natural cycle. From the dawn of the Primal Stage until now, so it has been, so it shall be. Only mages of immeasurable power can bind their soul to their will—retaining their memories even after rebirth."
The words rolled over Orion like a tide. They were simple enough, but carried weight, as if each was a law of reality itself.
"…And what happens to me now?" Orion asked, a nervous tremor in his tone.
"You will lose all your memories in the Sea of Cleansing. Your soul will be reforged, purified, and reincarnated.That is how the cycle normally works."
The finality in the voice made Orion's chest tighten. Even here, without lungs or a heartbeat, he felt a spike of panic. Losing all memory of who he was—of his life, his discoveries, his friends, his comrades—it felt worse than dying.
"That… doesn't sound fair," Orion muttered. "Isn't that unfair to the people who can't bind their souls? Wait, you said 'mages'—are they… are they actually real? Or is this one of those things authors just throw into fantasy novels to make them more exciting?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then a deep, amused sigh echoed through the void.
"As for your question about fairness… the heavens are not fair. But there are universal rules made for such cases. Your world lies on the outer layer of the universe, so far from the Heart that the flow of World Energy cannot reach it. That is why your home is a magicless place."
Orion frowned. "So… basically Earth is in the middle of nowhere?"
"Correct."
That answer stung more than he expected.
"And what about those who can bind their souls?"
"If they are fortunate, they reincarnate with their memories intact. If not, the Soul Reapers destroy them. Though… it is difficult to erase the soul of a god."
That last word hit him like an electric shock. "A… god?"
"Do not interrupt," the voice snapped, irritation creeping into its tone. "Listen carefully, for if you do not, the Gate will soon draw your soul away."
Something in the voice shifted—urgency now replacing patience. Orion's attention sharpened instinctively.
And then he saw it.
Far away—though in this place, distance was meaningless—a vast, ethereal gate drifted toward him. Its frame shimmered with a brilliance that hurt to look at, its surface awash with colors Earth had no names for. It pulsed like the heartbeat of the cosmos itself, and every pulse drew him closer.
"That's… beautiful," Orion whispered. "And terrifying."
"That is the Soul Gate. Once it closes upon you, you will be swept into the Sea of Cleansing. I took your soul here at great risk to myself, but even so, the Gate has found us."
Orion's mind spun. "Wait—why take the risk? Why go out of your way to help me?"
"With my Shard, you will reincarnate with your memories intact."
Orion's eyes narrowed—if he still had eyes. "And the catch?"
There was a low, amused chuckle.
"You are not as foolish as most mortals. Very well—I will tell you. You must ensure your reincarnation is in a world close to the Heart of the Universe, where World Energy flows strongly. From there, my Shard will regain strength far more quickly."
Orion gave a dry laugh. "And how exactly am I supposed to choose where I reincarnate? You literally just told me I'm a mortal."
"You are. But with my Shard now infused into your soul, you will have up to ten reincarnations before both our souls are destroyed. Each time you die, the Shard will pull your essence to the reincarnation cycle again."
Orion's mind clicked. "So if I end up in a dead world—"
"Then you must end your life and try again. If you awaken in a world brimming with World Energy, the Shard will react. You will be drawn into a Soulscape I have prepared—one filled with the gifts and tools you will need. That is when your true journey begins. Do not grow attached to empty worlds. Do not squander your reincarnations."
The Soul Gate was almost upon him now, each pull against his essence stronger than the last. His form wavered under the pressure.
"This makes no sense," Orion said through gritted teeth.
"It makes perfect sense," the god countered sharply.
"I'm not doing this. I'm not going along with your insane plan."
"Then you may die forever," the god replied coldly.
Before Orion could snap back, he felt something seize his voice—an invisible force clamping down, rendering him unable to speak at all. He knew instantly whose doing it was.
"One last thing," the god's voice came again, now strained and fading as though being pulled away. "When you find a world rich in World Energy… achieve godhood. Only then will the Shard's purpose be fulfilled."
And then the Gate's pull became irresistible. Orion's soul was wrenched toward it, his struggles meaningless. The light of the Gate swallowed him whole.
The last thing he felt was frustration, suspicion… and the faint echo of the god's laughter.
Then—only darkness