The silence stretched endlessly after the god's question, its words hanging heavy in the golden void. "Choose wisely, mortal. For even the greatest of wishes carry their own burdens."
He stood frozen, his thoughts spiraling. One wish. Anything. It felt like the weight of the universe rested on his shoulders, crushing him with it's infinite possibilities.
"What do I even want?" he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible.
The god leaned back in its throne, its form shifting subtly as if time itself rippled through it. Its swirling eyes watched him, patient yet unyielding.
Memories clawed at the edges of his mind, unbidden and relentless. He saw flashes of his life,the laughter of his childhood friends, the warmth of a lover's embrace, the quiet pride in his mother's eyes. But alongside them came the shadows: the moments he turned away,
the harsh words he couldn't take back,
the opportunities he let slip through his fingers. Regret twisted in his chest like a knife.
He thought of wishing for wealth, the kind that could buy freedom and power. But the idea felt hollow, a fleeting distraction from the emptiness inside. Fame? Power? A second chance at life? Each possibility unraveled as quickly as it formed, dismissed by the gnawing truth that none of it would fix what was broken within him.
"What's taking so long?" the god asked, its tone light but edged with curiosity. "You mortals are usually much quicker to demand."
He shot the god a weary look. "It's not that simple. If you could have anything, anything at all what would you even choose?"
The god's lips curved into a faint smile, its eyes glinting. "I do not need to choose. I already hold all of existence within my grasp."
"Must be nice," he muttered bitterly.
The god chuckled softly, a sound like the shifting of tectonic plates. "And yet, here you are, with the power to claim anything, hesitating. Why?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came. Instead, a memory surfaced
a quiet evening from years ago. He had been sitting on a park bench, watching the world move around him. People walking hand in hand, children laughing, a stray dog chasing its own tail. He had felt something then, an ache he couldn't name. A yearning to understand, to connect, to be more than he was.
And then it hit him.
He straightened, his heart pounding. "I know what I want."
The god leaned forward, its swirling eyes narrowing. "Speak."
He took a deep breath, the enormity of his decision tightening his chest. "I want to see every life I could have lived. Every choice I could have made. Every path I didn't take."
The god's expression shifted, its ever changing features settling for a moment into something almost human. Amusement. Surprise. Perhaps even a flicker of respect.
"An interesting wish," it said, its tone measured. "Do you understand what you ask for?"
"I think so," he said, though doubt gnawed at him. "I want to know if I had done things differently, would it have mattered? Would I have been... better?"
The god tilted its head, considering him. "Every path carries its joys and sorrows. To see them all is to bear the weight of infinite lives, infinite possibilities. You may not find the answers you seek."
"I need to try," he said, his voice steady despite the fear rising in him. "I need to know."
The god's smile widened, a touch of mischief returning to its gaze. "Very well, mortal. Your wish shall be granted."
It raised a hand, its fingers shimmering like liquid gold. The golden void around them began to ripple, the light bending and fracturing like a broken mirror. He felt the air shift, a strange pull tugging at the edges of his being.
"Prepare yourself," the god said, its voice resonating with power. "For the truths you seek may not be the ones you desire."
The world around him shattered in an explosion of color and sound, each fragment of light and shadow weaving into intricate patterns before disintegrating into the void. A force stronger than gravity pulled at him, dragging him through a maelstrom of shifting hues and sensations. He felt himself falling endlessly, weightless yet tethered by an invisible thread to the god's laughter, which echoed like a haunting melody in the distance.
Then, everything dissolved into silence and darkness. Nothingness enveloped him, vast and unyielding, yet charged with the faint hum of something unknown waiting to be revealed.
He floated there for what felt like an eternity, the absence of sensation both unsettling and strangely calming. But then, a spark flickered in the void. One by one, tiny lights began to bloom, their radiance cutting through the darkness like stars forming in a newborn galaxy.
The lights coalesced into shapes, images flashing past him in a chaotic rush. A child's laughter. A tear-streaked face. A hand clutching at the air in desperation. Each image was a fragment of a life, a glimpse into a possibility that felt achingly real. He reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing against one of the scenes. In an instant, it expanded, enveloping him in its glow.
He stood in a bustling city square, the scent of rain on pavement filling his lungs. The weight of an umbrella pressed into his hand, and he looked down to see himself dressed in a tailored suit, his reflection glinting in a puddle at his feet. This wasn't him, or at least, not the him he remembered. This was someone else, living a life he could have had.
Before he could process it, the scene shifted. He was on a mountaintop, the world stretching out before him in breathtaking clarity. Then a quiet room filled with books. Then a battlefield, the air thick with smoke and fear. Each shift brought a new life, a new version of himself, and with it, a surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
The images came faster now, blurring together into an endless cascade. He saw himself as a father, holding a newborn with trembling hands. As an artist, his fingers stained with paint. As a wanderer, his feet blistered from endless roads. Each life was vivid and fleeting, leaving an indelible mark before slipping away.
Through it all, the god's laughter echoed faintly, a reminder of the bargain he had struck. Yet the laughter was no longer mocking. It carried a note of curiosity, even wonder, as if the god itself was captivated by the unfolding tapestry of his potential.
Finally, the images slowed, the cascade giving way to a single, radiant scene. He stood in a field of wildflowers, the sun warm against his skin. A sense of peace washed over him, deeper than anything he had ever known. For a moment, he simply stood there, breathing in the sweetness of the air.
And then the god's voice broke through, gentle but insistent. "Do you see now, mortal? The lives you could have lived are as countless as the stars. Each a reflection of your choices, your desires, your fears."
He nodded, his throat tight. "I see."
The god's form shimmered into view, its presence towering yet oddly comforting. "And yet, you must choose what to take from this. Will you dwell on what could have been, or will you carry this understanding into what remains?"
The question lingered, heavier than any he had faced before. He looked out at the field, the wildflowers swaying in a breeze he could not feel. "I don't know," he admitted softly. "But I want to try."
The god's eyes glinted with something like approval. "Then go, mortal. Carry the weight of what you have seen. And remember even the smallest choices can shape the greatest of lives."
With a wave of its hand, the field dissolved, and he was falling once more but this time, there was no fear. Only the promise of what lay ahead.