Night came quietly, but it carried a weight heavier than any Arlen had ever felt. Sleep claimed him reluctantly, and when his eyes closed, he didn't enter the familiar world of dreams. Instead, he awoke in a void so vast it swallowed even the concept of distance. Darkness stretched endlessly in every direction, deep and infinite, like the fabric of reality itself had dissolved.
He could feel it before he even understood it — a presence so immense it dwarfed his very essence. His body felt tiny, a single particle suspended in a cosmic sea of power and thought. The air—or rather, what he sensed as air—was thick with something ancient. Not hostile, not inviting, but overwhelmingly aware.
I'm inside it… inside something alive, he thought, heart hammering in his chest.
The God, sleeping yet conscious, stirred around him. Not a voice, not even a whisper, but a shift, a subtle movement of awareness so deep it made the universe feel as though it quivered. The presence was immense, stretching across the void like an ocean of infinite potential, breathing in a rhythm that made the void pulse.
Arlen tried to speak, but words were meaningless here. Instead, his thoughts echoed into the emptiness.
Who… are you?
No answer came, yet he felt a response. Not in words, but as a wave of understanding — slow, deliberate, indifferent. The God was aware of him, aware of the fragment stirring within him, but it did not acknowledge him directly. Its gaze—or what could be perceived as a gaze—swept over him like a tidal current, assessing, measuring, contemplating.
Arlen stumbled backward on invisible ground, his body struggling to maintain form. Frost curled around his fingers, and lightning arced nervously in the void, a reaction to his own awareness of raw power. It was as if the fragment inside him recognized the God's presence, and trembled at the nearness of its origin.
Why… does it feel like I'm nothing? he thought, shivering.
The void shifted subtly, almost imperceptibly. Time seemed to stretch and contract simultaneously, leaving him dizzy. He caught glimpses of fleeting images — vast landscapes, cities of light long decayed, and armies of a past life he could not recall. They were not memories as he knew them, but impressions, echoes of authority and dominion that belonged to someone who had once wielded immense power.
And then he felt it: the stirring of Fragment 1.
It manifested as a faint pulse at the core of his chest, a tiny ember in the darkness that flared with sudden intensity. It wasn't full power, not even close, but it reacted violently to the God's awareness. Pain shot through him, a deep, resonating ache that made him cry out silently into the void.
It's alive… inside me… and it knows.
The void seemed to exhale, a movement that rippled through every fiber of his being. He fell to his knees, clutching at his chest as streaks of frost and lightning erupted uncontrollably along his veins. The fragment screamed, or rather, its emotion screamed through him — anger, frustration, and a longing so primal that it shook him to the core.
Arlen fell to the void's unseen floor, and the echoes began. Not voices, not commands, but shards of thought, broken fragments of memories:
We fought here…
I was betrayed…
Power belongs… not to you…
They were incomplete, yet they carried weight, shaping him without granting clarity. He understood instinctively that these were pieces of his past life — memories he had not earned, knowledge he had not yet unlocked. The fragment stirred in response to the God's subtle shift, and a cold determination settled in Arlen's chest.
If this is my power… if this is what I am becoming… I need to control it.
The void trembled around him as the God shifted again. Arlen felt it in his bones: this being, slumbering and aware, was ancient, older than thought, older than time itself. Every fiber of his body screamed in awe and fear, and yet, within him, a spark of resolve ignited. The fragment pulsed again, brighter, its light no longer just reacting — it was seeking, yearning to connect, to align with the will of its vessel.
Suddenly, the emptiness flared with points of light, flickering across the void like stars in some uncharted cosmos. Arlen instinctively raised his hands, and frost formed along his arms, lightning crackling across his fingertips. The fragment responded, strengthening the manifestation without permission, surging through him in waves that left him gasping for breath.
He fell forward, hands pressing against the void's unseen surface, and for a moment, he felt the fragment almost obey him — not fully, not with understanding, but it obeyed enough to stabilize the chaos within his body. The void reacted with subtle tremors, the God shifting its awareness slightly, as if curious.
It knows I am awake…
And then the dream faded.
Arlen awoke abruptly, his body drenched in sweat. Frost lingered along his arms in faint crystalline lines, and his veins glowed momentarily before fading completely. His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of what he had just experienced.
Lira stirred beside him, concerned.
"Arlen… you're shaking. Are you okay?"
He turned to her, trying to form words, but nothing adequate came. He realized that what he had just witnessed — the God, the fragment, the void — could not yet be explained. All he knew was that something stirred inside him, responding to a force he could not see.
The air outside the room trembled faintly, and nearby mana flows — the invisible currents that seasoned mages and adventurers could feel — pulsed in response. Even from a distance, Lira could sense the ancient weight of what had just occurred.
"Whatever you saw… whatever happened, it's not something ordinary," she murmured.
Arlen nodded silently, staring at his hands. The fragment had moved. Its power had awakened slightly. And somewhere deep inside him, he knew this was only the beginning.
The sleeping God had noticed him, and though no words had been exchanged, a silent understanding passed between the vessel and the ancient entity: something immense, inevitable, and beyond comprehension had begun to unfold.