Sorken's heart pounded in his chest, fear gnawing at his insides. The terror of seeing something that could irrevocably change his life pulsed through him. What if the sight before him made him regret ever opening his eyes? Yet, despite the dread, there was almost something musical about the voice. It tugged at him, coaxing him to look, to uncover the existence that had drawn him into this bizarre, incomprehensible place.
The voice spoke again, though the words were muddled as if coming from a great distance, obscured by layers of fog. He strained to make sense of them, but all he could grasp was the overwhelming pull to turn his gaze toward the source.
"I don't know..." he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible amidst the thick silence that surrounded him. "Should I look? Should I keep sitting here like a fool, or should I face whatever this is?"
His mind raced, torn between the primal instinct to stay hidden in the safety of ignorance and the unshakable curiosity gnawing at his core. But then, something shifted. He noticed a change—a subtle but undeniable alteration in the atmosphere around him.
The darkness that had engulfed the space moments ago was lifting, replaced by a dim, almost ethereal light. It wasn't just the flickering flame of the pyre anymore. No, this light was different, revealing the outlines of the place in which they stood. Sorken blinked, trying to adjust his vision. As the shadows peeled away, the setting became clearer.
He was in a vast hall—one that seemed as though it belonged to another time, another world. The towering walls, at least ten to twelve meters high, loomed over them, their stone surfaces weathered, etched with strange, forgotten symbols. The ceiling arched above like a grand dome, but it was dark, shadowed, as though concealing secrets of its own. This place—it wasn't modern, far from it. It felt ancient, as though it had stood for centuries untouched by time.
"What... what is this place?" he muttered under his breath, the weight of the hall pressing down on him.
As he scanned the area, his gaze fell on the others around him. People—like him—were scattered across the hall, most of them just waking up, blinking in confusion. Some wore the same dazed expression he had moments ago, clearly disoriented by their surroundings.
A few of them whispered among themselves, casting nervous glances at their unfamiliar setting. One man, standing not far from Sorken, rubbed his eyes and let out a shaky laugh.
"Is this... some sort of twisted joke? Where the hell are we?" the man muttered, his voice tinged with panic.
Sorken remained silent, still trying to piece everything together. He looked at the ground beneath him, at the ancient, dust-covered altar they all seemed to be gathered around. There was no question about it—they were definitely on an altar. But the purpose of the place? The reason they had been brought here? That remained a mystery, and it gnawed at Sorken's mind.
Another person—a young woman with wide eyes—clutched at her arms, shivering as if trying to ward off the cold dread hanging in the air.
"This... this isn't right," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We shouldn't be here."
Sorken could feel the panic rising in the hall, the unease spreading like wildfire. But even as the others began to stir, his focus remained fixed on the faint remnants of the voice that had spoken earlier—the voice that had almost compelled him to look, to see.
And then, as if reading his thoughts, it came again, softer this time but unmistakable.
"You want to know, don't you?"
Sorken's breath hitched, his pulse quickening. It was as if the voice could peer into the deepest corners of his mind, taunting him with the promise of knowledge.
"Who are you?" Sorken finally whispered, his voice shaking, though he wasn't sure if he wanted an answer. He felt ridiculous speaking into the air, but what else could he do? Everything about this situation was surreal. Why not add one more absurdity to the mix?
The voice did not answer. Instead, the hall seemed to hum with low, vibrating energy, as though the very stones were alive, resonating with the presence of something... watching.
Sorken turned to the man standing nearest to him, the one who had laughed nervously moments before. His face was pale now, his bravado crumbling under the weight of the unknown.
"Did you hear that?" Sorken asked, his voice low.
The man's eyes widened, a mixture of fear and confusion. "Hear what? There's nothing here but us, man. Stop freaking me out."
Sorken frowned, unsure if the man was being honest or if the voice was only meant for him.
"What's happening here?" another voice piped up, louder this time. A middle-aged man with a stern expression stepped forward, eyeing the altar warily. "Where are we? Why are we here?"
The panic in the room grew, whispers escalating to frantic conversations as the others began to piece together their situation.
Sorken, though still terrified, found his thoughts momentarily distracted by the strange architecture around him. This place—it didn't belong to any time or style he knew of. It looked ancient, more like a relic of the Middle Ages than anything modern, with its towering walls and dark, mysterious atmosphere. Something about the place felt off, as though it was drenched in history—forgotten, forbidden history.
Yet amidst the chaos, his thoughts returned to the voice. Should he look? Should he face the thing that had spoken to him?
Whatever it was, it had brought him here. And it wasn't finished with him yet.
He again took a glance at Tamara, who unlike others has not gained her consciousness yet. He was a bit worried about her safety but after assessing her condition and heartbeat from a distance, he was assured that she was completely fine.
As he was trying to make up his mind on what to ask the figure next, the area around them was completely lit. He could see the entire hall around him and judge the place where he was stuck.
'this'
The hall was so frantically beautiful and majestic that he could have lost his mind if it was the first thing he saw after waking up. The entire hall was white with a golden thread-like design adorning it. The entire place didn't look like a simple building made of stones and metal. It was glistening and shining as if it had its own source of power and will. A will that can captivate the mind of people who saw it.
'I cannot believe that a simple hall can enchant me to this extent' sorken gasped as he saw the hall.
The features of the hall were simple yet completely indescribable. The glistening walls made it impossible to see the designs and outlines he had earlier seen.
'drip drip drip'
Sorken didn't notice when tears started to fall out of his eyes. He couldn't understand why it was happening but he felt that at this moment, he had fulfilled whatever he ought to get from his life. He was completely satisfied and willing to do anything for the being that provided him the opportunity to witness this scene.
"I am in the kingdom of GOD! I have finally been recognized"
A person nearby shouted.
"This is…. I never believed in god, I was foolish. I seek repentance. I want to serve God and repent for all the sins"
Another man shouted.
Sorken felt that every single person in this room who had gained awareness felt the same amount of gratitude and reverence he did. It was indeed a miracle.
He then understood that the owner of that voice was someone who wouldn't harm them. He gathered his courage and his heart that was filled with fear, shock and a certain amount of sorrow no longer made him feel constrained. He felt joy and happiness washing over him.
He raised his teary eyes and finally, he could clearly see the person in front of him. He was the same as he saw him, but unlike the fiery eyes he assumed, it was filled with gentleness. His robes, fluttering in the air, gave a feeling of mystery and comfort. He felt a sudden urge to bow down and he followed that urge.
In the hall, in front of the priest, most of the people who had awakened followed suit and bowed to him. His lips curled up in a crescent smile. He looked at them with narrow eyes as if sizing each of them up. After a moment, he lifted his hand that was covered with a golden phoenix-shaped ornament, and waved the arm.
A golden binding chain appeared around the people of the altar. It completely bonded their hands and even their legs.
"This? Is it a gift from god?"
"You fool, what else it could be"
"I have been blesses! Hahahaha I have been blessed"
The person floating in the air looked at the frenzied people with disdainful eyes before speaking.
"Horu! Take these people to Priest Sal-cha. I can't waste time here. We anticipated something extraordinary, not some peculiar teleportation skill. I don't know if we can even make any use of them, although see if any of them can be forced to ascend. The rest is for the priest to decide—slavery or death."
Another figure, similarly robed and veiled, stepped forward, muttering incantations and raising his hands. With another gesture, the unconscious awoke, including Tamara, who gazed in Sorken's direction.