Eternal Darkness
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'Where am I?'
'Anyone there, Shiva, Zeus, Odin, Yahweh, Allah, Ra…Prescence, One-Above-All anyone?'
Hearing no reply the soul without any body to feel any senses floated in the eternal darkness recounting his life.
…
'I'm Ryan, currently floating down in an endless darkness. This realm is beyond time and existence, where even the concept of light, matter, and reality cease to exist. It is a place of absolute silence, devoid of color, sound, and any form of life.'
'My memories are hazy, and much of my life is slipping away from me. The only clear memories I have are that of being an orphan and feeling a deep dissatisfaction with life. In the orphanage, I witnessed unethical practices, and instead of running away, I chose to gather evidence and report it. The authorities acted quickly, addressing the child abuse, and conducted a nationwide raid on the orphanage network for child and organ trafficking.
Instead of transferring to another orphanage, I opted for a boarding school. However, life became challenging when I had to leave school to attend a state university, something I could barely afford despite a sponsorship. Without money or connections, I struggled to make ends meet, but I managed.
The last day I remember, I woke up in my small, modest apartment after only 5 hours of sleep following an 8-hour shift. I started by tidying up—gathering empty cans and food wrappers from the coffee table and folding the clothes I'd left draped over a chair.
Afterward, I'd head to the bathroom for a quick shower. The bathroom, though small, held all the essentials. The warm water washed away the fatigue for a moment, offering a rare sense of relief. Drying off, I'd run my fingers through my damp hair, give myself a glance in the mirror, I saw my reflection—I looked at my reflection—a face with pale skin that seemed even lighter under the dim bathroom light. Dark circles shadowed my eyes, giving away my exhaustion, while my cheekbones stood out more than usual, adding a bit of hollowness to my face, heading out the apartment.
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I stepped out into the chilly morning and headed to the metro station, grabbing a breakfast burrito from a stall on the way. The station was already crowded, people around me lost in their own thoughts. I went down the stairs, the low hum of the city filling the air. When the train arrived, I boarded and found a corner seat.
As I settled into my corner seat on the train, I pulled out the newly released comic book from my backpack. The stories within provided a brief escape from my daily struggles—a portal to fantastical realms filled with heroes, anti-heroes, and complex villains. It's the villains' backstories that truly captivate me, igniting a strange sense of understanding. I find myself pondering what they must have endured to become who they are, what hardships twisted their paths. I admire how they're willing to burn the world for those they care about, while the heroes often stand by and watch their loved ones suffer, rationalizing their inaction with thoughts like, 'What separates me from them when we both do the same thing?'
As the metro came to a stop at Union Station in Washington, D.C., I tucked the comic book away and let a friendly smile—a product of years of hardship—spread across my face, preparing myself to join the bustling crowd. I moved through the station with practiced ease, exchanging smiles and small gestures with the people around me.
Then it happened, The usual city noise faded, and an oppressive darkness began to creep across the sky, blocking out the sun. People slowed, confused and scared, looking up at the swirling clouds above.
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"What's happening?" a woman asked nervously as she refreshed her phone, unable to load any news. "Is it a storm?"
"This can't be real," a teenager mumbled, his voice barely heard over the growing tension. "It's like the sky's breaking apart."
"It's the end, isn't it?" an older man stammered, clutching a small cross, his voice shaky as he held onto what he thought could protect him.
"There has to be a logical explanation!" shouted a man in a suit, trying to stay calm, but his voice betrayed his desperation. "Maybe it's a power outage or some atmospheric phenomenon?"
But soon, screams filled the air as the ground shook violently, cracking like a spiderweb beneath them. Ryan stumbled, grabbing a lamppost, and watched in horror as buildings swayed as if they were made of paper. The sky split open, revealing a swirling void—black and endless, pulling in all the light.
Panic spread as people scrambled for shelter, their cries mingling with the earth's roar. "Help! Somebody help!" a mother shouted, holding her child tight, while others dropped to their knees in fear.
The ground gave way beneath me, and a wave of excruciating pain surged through my body. In a final, desperate thought, I wished for a chance to start a new, to become the hero of my own life. But as the white light closed in, I felt myself being pulled apart, the very fabric of my existence unravelling. Suddenly, I found myself lost in this void.'
…
I recounted all the comics, manga, novels, and movies I had consumed to keep myself grounded in this eternal darkness. Yet, without any sense of time passing, even those familiar stories began to lose their power over me.
Slowly, hope began to slip through my fingers. Then, suddenly, a blinding light erupted, flooding the endless void like a mighty tide, surging forward to erase the darkness in its wake. I was swept along with it, and as the brilliance enveloped me, I lost consciousness.
…
"Ah, Ryan," the voice echoed around me, smooth and enveloping, like a warm breeze. "I see you standing on the cliff of your own narrative, caught between memories and the fleeting moments of existence. How fascinating it is to witness your struggles and triumphs, your yearning to rewrite your story and seize your own destiny."
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