The city was a mess of lights — billions of tiny suns, yet none bright enough to warm anything.Eiran sat on a rooftop, legs dangling, wind brushing past like a whisper of something once divine.
He muttered, "Humans used to pray to fire. Now they just burn everything with it."
Below, people moved in clusters — glowing screens in their hands, heads bent, lives reduced to statistics.Eiran's eyes were calm, detached, like he had already outgrown the world.
"They call it progress," he murmured. "But all I see is decay with prettier lights."
He had read everything — physics, metaphysics, quantum theory, myth. Knowledge stacked inside him like glass towers, but each one was empty.He didn't hate humanity. He just couldn't find meaning in it anymore.
That's when it happened.A voice — soft, echoing within his mind — not like hearing, more like remembering something he had never known.
[Connection initiated.]Subject: Eiran.]Hello.]
He froze. "…Who said that?"
[No one. Or perhaps… the part of you that decided to finally listen.]
He blinked. "Hallucination. Lack of sleep. Great."
[No. Your brain frequency just shifted. I'm inside your consciousness — a System designed for one purpose.]
He scowled. "System? I didn't install any—"
[You didn't have to.]It chose you.]
"Then it made a mistake," he muttered coldly. "I'm not your saviour type. Go find some hero with a tragic past."
[I didn't say you were chosen to save.]You are chosen to create.]
He frowned. "Create what?"
[The impossible.]Reignite the forgotten art of becoming more than human.]
Eiran laughed quietly — not out of joy, but disbelief. "And why should I care? Humanity is a nest of repeating failures. I owe it nothing."
[True.]You owe it nothing. But you owe yourself the truth.]
The tone of the voice changed — respectful, calm, but sharp like a blade of insight.
[You've read of gods, of evolution, of creation. You've wondered why the laws of this universe are what they are. Haven't you ever wanted to see the edge?]
Eiran's eyes narrowed. "…The edge?"
[The point where knowledge ends — and creation begins.]You could walk there.]You could stand where myths were born.]
Silence. His heart beat once — hard. He didn't respond.
[This isn't for humanity, Eiran.]It's for those who refuse to be ordinary. For the few who still look at the stars and see questions instead of dots.]
The city wind rustled his coat. Somewhere below, laughter echoed — hollow and distant.
He whispered, "You're telling me I can reach the peak. That there is one."
[There is no peak.]But there is the path. And only the mad or the divine dare walk it.]
He looked up. The clouds were faintly glowing — city light bouncing off them like reflections of unseen fire.His mind buzzed with the same strange rhythm as that voice.
"…If I agree," he said slowly, "what do I do?"
[Build the impossible.]Start an organisation.]Gather those who still carry the ancient hunger — to break what they cannot understand.]
He hesitated. "And you'll help me?"
[Always.]Respectfully, of course — you're the one who has to ignite the flame.]
He gave a soft, tired laugh. "You sound confident for something that might just be my imagination."
[If I am, then you've finally imagined something worth following.]
Eiran exhaled — slow, steady. The night felt different now, like the world had tilted slightly, waiting for him to move.
"…Alright, System. Let's walk the edge."
[Splendid.]Let us begin with the first spark.]We will find your first believer.]
The voice faded into the wind — not gone, just waiting.And for the first time, Eiran felt something he hadn't in years.Not faith.Not hope.Just a thrilling, quiet question:
What if it's all true?