Darkness. Profound and infinite. It engulfed everything, an abyss where no light dared to trespass. Ariyan sat on a lone bench, its wooden surface cold beneath his touch. The void around him pulsed with a foreboding stillness, like the deep inhale before a thunderstorm.
He exhaled, his voice barely a whisper. "It's happening again. This... this wasn't a dream." The words lingered in the air, absorbed by the silence.
He tried to trace the sequence of events. I was in class, about to ask a question. Then... everything vanished. He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath his confusion.
A faint sound echoed—a distortion, fragmented and wavering, as if reality itself were glitching. Then came the voices. Disjointed, overlapping, and alien, yet clearer than ever before:
"Outsider." "Leave this place." "You don't belong."
Ariyan's eyes darted around the void. His pulse quickened. "What the hell is this?" he shouted. "HELLO? Is anyone here?"
The voices grew louder, cascading like a torrent. Then the void shattered into a kaleidoscope of images—flashes of ancient myths, cosmic truths, and unimaginable wonders. His senses were overwhelmed.
The beginning of all things unraveled before him: a swirling chaos, a void pregnant with potential, split apart by divine hands. He saw the first light breaking through the veil of nothingness, shimmering like molten gold. Gods stood at the edge of creation, their forms towering and radiant. Their voices carried the weight of stars, speaking in verses that birthed galaxies and worlds.
Ariyan saw the tandava of Shiva—a dance of destruction and renewal. The rhythmic stomps shattered mountains, yet from the rubble, rivers of life began to flow. Zeus hurled thunderbolts, his fury molding the earth, while Prometheus stole fire, gifting humanity its first spark of progress. The tales of the gods intertwined, weaving a tapestry of creation and chaos.
The visuals shifted. The atom's first split sent shockwaves across the universe, echoing the mythic power of divine wrath. Stars exploded into supernovas, seeding galaxies with life and potential. Civilizations rose, their temples etched with prayers to deities now forgotten. Wars raged in the name of gods, destruction painted upon the canvas of human ambition.
Every moment, every image, carried a rhythm, a rhyme:
From void to flame, from ash to name,
The cosmos danced in an endless game.
Creation's kiss, destruction's roar,
A cycle eternal, forevermore.
Ariyan's mind spun. The flashes came faster, compressing eons into seconds. Creation and destruction intertwined in a dance so intricate it defied comprehension. Then, abruptly, the images faded. The darkness returned, suffocating and absolute.
****
Ariyan's eyes snapped open. He blinked against the fluorescent lights above, the sterile smell of antiseptic grounding him in reality. The ceiling fan hummed softly, a stark contrast to the chaos he had just witnessed. His chest heaved, every breath trembling with the weight of what he'd seen.
"You'll be fine," a voice said, casual and steady. He turned his head to see a woman in a white coat, a lollipop dangling from her lips as she checked his vitals.
Before he could respond, another figure entered the room. Miss Rina, his class teacher, her expression caught between relief and exasperation. "You scared me half to death! One moment you were standing, and the next, you collapsed like a sack of bricks."
"I... collapsed?" Ariyan's voice was hoarse, his mind still reeling.
"Your temperature was through the roof. If you weren't feeling well, you shouldn't have come to college," she scolded, though her tone softened toward the end.
"I was fine this morning," Ariyan murmured, more to himself than to her.
The doctor's voice cut in, brisk but kind. "Well, you're fine now. Rest up. Don't worry about class—Miss Rina will give you the notes later."
Ariyan shrugged. "Honestly? I'm not worried about the notes. But... thanks. Both of you."
Miss Rina nodded, her stern demeanor returning. "Take care. I've got a class to handle." With that, she left the room.
****
Alone again, Ariyan sat upright on the bed, his hands clutching the blanket. His thoughts spiraled.
Those weren't dreams. They were... something else. He closed his eyes, replaying the voices. Outsider. Leave this place. You don't belong.
"For them, it's like I never disappeared," he muttered. "That means... time must stop for me whenever this happens. But why?" He rubbed his temples, trying to piece it together. "If this isn't a dream, it's beyond the laws of physics. Time and space... they're not behaving normally."
He thought back to the flashes. The primordial void. The gods. The cycle of creation and destruction. Were they warnings? Memories? Or something else entirely?
"And those voices..." His gaze darted around the room, half-expecting to see someone—something—watching him. "Are they observing me? Even now?"
Questions piled up, each one heavier than the last. Why me? Why now? What am I supposed to do?
A shiver ran down his spine, but he forced himself to steady his breathing. "Okay, don't panic," he whispered, though his voice wavered. "I have to find answers. There has to be something—a clue, a reason, anything."
He stared at the ceiling, the sterile lights doing little to comfort him. Somewhere deep inside, a sense of foreboding coiled tightly, refusing to let go.
***
Beyond the walls of the medical room, the world continued as if nothing had happened. But for Ariyan, everything had changed. The shadows seemed deeper. The silence, louder. And in the back of his mind, one thought lingered, chilling and unshakable:
They're still watching.