A line stretched on for what seemed like eternity. Its end could no longer be seen from the other. No one would be able to tell the uniqueness of this singular line. No one other than the one who found himself stranded in the desolation of nothingness with no other company but the line.
He watched its beginning, a mere point that seemed to wander aimlessly through the depths of emptiness. How did it find a place to settle? Even as he watched, he could not tell. He did not even realise that it had already dug deep and sown itself like a seed in a garden.
The sprout grew to the endlessness of eternity, stretching its whimsical boundaries to the boundlessness of infinity. 'Where would it go now', he wondered. The thought seemed to echo from his disembodied mind, creating ripples in the emptiness around him.
He watched its beginning, a mere point washed away by a steady stream of raging waters. It held no weight amidst the thrashing waves that threatened to burry it under the riverbed. How would it survive? He failed to understand as his vision seemed to flicker, and he found the seed already straining the waters into a grinding halt.
A line stretched on for what seemed like eternity. Its ends tore through the distant horizons in defiance. No one could tell the uniqueness of this singular line. No one other than the one who found himself existing within the nothingness, watching the line as it continued on its way.
He watched its beginning, a mere point...
What was this accursed game? How could it confine him in a senseless repetition? Even his thoughts returned again and again. He thought them out, letting them ripple across emptiness as though they meant something. But they meant nothing, not here at least.
A line stretched on for what seemed like eternity. He followed along, grabbing hold of one end. It took him through scenes he could not quite understand. There were countless of them, points that grew into lines that stretched for eternity across infinity. They were each distinct, somehow his senses could capture unique colours to them.
But that was the end of the differences. All of them were practically the exact same. He let go of the line he was holding and grabbed onto another. The scenery did not even deviate. There were countless of them, points whose distances from each other seemed inconsequential at most yet were inexplicably far apart.
How could he have missed them? He stood amidst the unending expanse of emptiness. There was literally nothing blocking his perception, so how could he miss this gallery of points?
The lines they stretched out should reach him all at the same time for how could infinity be judged with mundane conceptions of time? And how could eternity be measured by mundane conceptions of space?
In this realm of emptiness, all the things that somehow do exist were the inconceivable. If he too existed here, would that make him inconceivable? A mind wandering in the abyss of nothingness, what else could be a more fitting description? But it was not the distinction that he wanted.
For the first time for who knew how long, he moved. He was but a disembodied will, a mind with too much freedom in this blank canvas. The direction he chose was neither forwards nor backwards. He chose to move farther away.
A line stretched on for what seemed like eternity. Its ends could no longer be seen at all. No one would be able to tell the uniqueness of this singular line. No one other than the one who found himself staring at the indubitable reality.
He watched its beginning, a mere point that seemed to flicker like a dying ember in a winter night. How did it become the relentless march that it was? He did not know before, but he certainly did now. The seed was never alone.
As it sprouted, another seed would wake from within. It is these two that twist and coil around each other, their jubilant dances unending as they hoped to reach a paradise of their own.
The search would be long and arduous. Perhaps it might even be unending, bound for fruitlessness, but still they danced. Together they were better. Together they were whole.
The trails they left would stretch to the bounds of existence, but nothing would halt their steps. Had this not been their game from the beginning? Were they not born to play and dance with each other? They were inseparable no matter the desolation that awaited them.
He watched the two seeds march onward. One carried while the other made merry. It seemed so inconsequential, so fleeting. And yet they endured forever.
He moved even further away, wishing to witness more of the line's journey. But what he found was a grand tapestry. The river was an endless spool of lines, but none as bright and real as the ones he had been watching.
The river lines were transient, fleeting lights in an everlasting aurora. The twinkling points that continue their march have claimed dominion of the emptiness, encapsulating even the river within.
The lines seemed to embroider something upon the emptiness, casting a glow of something into the depths of nothing.
It was a ring that seemed as tiny as a grain of sand and as huge as a star. The dissonance was nothing new to him. Had he not been gazing into eternity and infinity already? His mind was already far too broken to be shattered by something so unimportant as size.
A line stretched on for eternity. It did not seem content at ending so quickly. Did it yearn for the freedom at the end of what is known? Or was it forced to march onward against its wishes? Did the line ever stray from its path? Did it ever skew or curve to the endless sky? Perhaps... perhaps not.
There was comfort in the steadiness of constancy. But can there be a future to this glorified dormancy? Even as he watched the lines go by, he realised he was getting nowhere nearer to an answer.
What eludes him in this place? Was it the emptiness that surrounded him yet cannot be grasped? He looked at the tapestry once more and sighed.
It was a ring that seemed as inconsequential as a speck of dust and as invaluable as a planet. It turned as the lines stretched on. It turned even when infinity seemed to end. It turned as though eternity was a mere second away from completion.
A line stretched on for what seemed like eternity. And with every point that sprouted, with every line that stretched, the ring turned. Its movements seemed to influence the emptiness around it, enveloping everything within a domain of ripples.
It turned and turned again until its ripples touched the ripples of his mind. Its echoes seemed to brand something onto him, something that should not exist in this nothingness.
But it was already too late for that. They already existed when they should not. He saw what the ring wanted to convey, an image that he could barely understand.
It was a palace within an eye. It was an eye within a ring. It was a ring within a palace.
The truth of it all seemed to slip from his grasp, but he held on to what sliver he could. The rest would disappear and he let it. He could tell he was not ready for it, but at least a hint would remain for him to follow.
The ring turned again. And this time, the echoes seemed to show him of a grand design beyond his conception. He immediately recoiled, the shock of witnessing it nearly shattered what remained of his broken mind. But he could feel the mark it left behind.
He could feel a dread overcoming him. Witness any more and it would be the end of him. It would be the end of the ring. It would be the end of the palace. And it would be the end of the eye.
He needed to return. To where, he did not know. He could not even remember who he was anymore.
He would have laughed if he could. Somehow, he felt that this had already happened before. Or perhaps this was how déjà vu was supposed to feel like. But he could not laugh.
The emptiness was churning in rage. The ring turned and turned again until the clash decimated everything and nothing. What had become of everything when even nothing had disappeared? He did not know. But somehow, he was still there.
Still? Had he even left? Was he supposed to leave? But where can he go? What can he do? He tried to look all around him and found only nothingness. And then...
A line stretched on for what seemed like eternity. Its end could no longer be seen from the other. No one would be able to tell the uniqueness of this singular line. No one other than the one who found himself stranded in the desolation of nothingness with no other company but the line.
A line stretched on for what seemed like eternity. He followed along, grabbing hold of one end. It took him across a vast river, the whipping winds or rushing waters sounded like music to his ears.
They were like a soothing lullaby of a loving mother. But soon, he realised that it was not the winds or waters. It was someone else.
His eyes opened to the view of a ruined city. His waking mind was still dull, aching from a brand that he could no longer remember.