The void welcomed her with a strange, disquieting familiarity as if it had been waiting for her all along. The only source of illumination was the five moons arranged in a pentagon against the dark sky. Their pale light cast an ethereal glow, and around them, millions upon millions of stars glittered like shards of ice, dominating every aspect of the heavens. The air was thick with silence, a tangible presence pressing in from all sides, muffling even her own breath. It was as if the void itself had swallowed all sound, leaving only the vast emptiness stretching out before her.
Ahead, the keeper walked, his form barely more than a silhouette against the backdrop of nothingness. His footsteps made no sound as he moved, gliding over the unseen ground like a shadow through the abyss. She followed though the act of moving felt alien, as if her feet were not her own, merely drifting in compliance with a force she no longer controlled.
As they ventured deeper, outlines of others began to emerge. They were shadows within shadows, figures barely discernible in the gloom. Some stood as still as statues, their features blurred and indistinct, while others moved with a slow, deliberate pace as if weighed down by the very darkness that enveloped them.
The keeper led her further into the heart of the darkness, the path winding and twisting like a labyrinth with no end. She had no sense of how long they walked—minutes, hours, perhaps even days—but eventually, the keeper halted. They stood before a massive gate wrought from metal so dark it seemed to absorb even the faint light of the moons above.
"This is where you will serve," the keeper said, his voice breaking the silence like a pebble cast into a still pond. The sound echoed unnaturally in the empty space around them. He turned to face her with an inscrutable expression. "Beyond this gate lies the heart of the void, where the lost souls gather. You will watch over them, guide them as needed, and ensure they do not escape."
She stared at the gate and a heavy dread settled over her. "What if they try to escape?"
The keeper's gaze hardened. "You will stop them," he responded simply as if it were the easiest thing in the world. "You are now their guardian. They are your responsibility."
"What happens if they do escape?" she insisted.
"If they escape," he said slowly, "they will return to the world of the living, but they will not be as they once were. They will be twisted, corrupted by the void, and they will bring darkness, chaos, and despair with them."
"How do I stop them?"
The keeper extended a hand into the darkness, producing a staff—long and black, its surface was smooth and cold, tipped with a sharp, gleaming point that seemed to absorb the light around it. "This will be your weapon," he said, handing it to her. "It will channel the power of the void, allowing you to subdue the souls and keep them contained."
She took the staff, its chill seeping into her bones. The weight of it was both reassuring and ominous. She could feel the void within the staff, a dark energy that thrummed with a malevolent life of its own, and she knew, in that instant, that it was now a part of her, just as much as the void within her soul.
The keeper stepped back, his gaze fixed on the gate. "You will learn in time," he added, his voice carrying a note of finality. "The void will teach you, as it has taught all who came before you."
"What happened to the ones who came before me?" she mumbled, the question slipping out before she could stop it.
The keeper's face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a shadow she couldn't quite name. "Some became keepers, like me," he said quietly. "Others... succumbed to the void. They became part of it, lost forever in its depths."
His words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the fate that could befall her if she failed. She tightened her grip on the staff, the cold metal biting into her palms. "I won't fail," she said, more to herself than to him.
The keeper nodded, his expression unchanged. "You will have to do more than not fail," he replied. "You must endure."
With that, he turned and walked away, his form melting into the darkness, leaving her alone before the gate. She stood there with her heart pounding and the enormity of her new reality pressing down on her.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, raising the staff to touch the gate. The metal was icy beneath her fingers, and as the staff made contact, the carvings began to shift. The gate groaned, its hinges creaking, echoing through the emptiness as it slowly swung open, revealing the darkness beyond.
She hesitated, the terror of the unknown clawing at her insides, but there was no turning back now. She had made her choice, and she would have to live with it—or rather, exist with it—for the rest of eternity.
With a final, steadying breath, she stepped through the gate.