Inside the void of nothingness, there was only emptiness—an all-encompassing absence that stretched into eternity. It wasn't simply silence; it was the kind of void that seemed to consume sound, light, and thought itself. It gnawed at the edges of Ariyan's sanity, mocking him with its endlessness.
Again.
Ariyan's frustration boiled over, his fists clenching tightly as he roared into the oppressive abyss, "Shit…! Who's doing this to me?!"
Silence answered, not the peaceful kind but an unbearable weight that pressed against his chest, suffocating his thoughts and feeding his anger.
"Haaa! F**k!" His voice tore through the stillness, reverberating like a stone thrown into a bottomless chasm, only to fade into nothingness. His own echoes sounded alien, distorted by the void. Yet no reply came, no reassurance, only the cold emptiness.
There was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
His breaths came sharp and shallow, his muscles taut as his rage simmered beneath the surface. His dark eyes burned with frustration, his glare piercing through the infinite expanse of black. "I'm sick of this," he muttered under his breath, his voice lower now, laced with quiet despair.
Then, something stirred.
It was subtle at first, like the faintest tremor rippling through a stagnant pond. The void, which had felt so absolute, so unchanging, suddenly seemed less certain. Black mist began to bubble and writhe in the distance, as though the void itself was birthing something unnatural.
A sound broke through the suffocating silence—a voice, fragmented and glitching, barely audible over the oppressive stillness.
"Hloo," it said, the word disjointed, a broken echo struggling to take form.
Ariyan's eyes snapped to the source. His mind raced with questions, but his body remained steady, his stance unyielding. Narrowing his eyes, he turned toward the writhing mist and demanded, "Who are you? Or rather, what are you?"
The mist pulsed as if reacting to his words, growing denser and darker, its amorphous shape testing the limits of form and substance. The voice returned, fragmented but clearer now, as though it were piecing itself together.
"Hm… Let's see... No one's ever asked me for my name before." The voice wavered, growing steadier. "They just give me one. And as for what I am? I think… I don't even know."
Ariyan's lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile, his anger momentarily subdued by curiosity. "I see. So, you're an AI." He tilted his head slightly, his voice sharp and probing. "They installed a chip in my head, didn't they? Who's your host? And what's your objective?"
The black mist began to shift again, its movements deliberate and almost alive. It expanded outward, its edges curling and flowing like smoke trapped in slow motion, testing the boundaries of its formlessness. It loomed larger, its presence growing heavier, more commanding, as if it were no longer just a fragment of the void but the void itself given form.
Ariyan's sharp gaze tracked its every motion, his body tense but his mind alight with a mix of intrigue and caution. This wasn't just technology—this was something far older, far darker, and far more dangerous. And as the voice resonated again, the void itself seemed to tremble, as if acknowledging the awakening of something that should never have been disturbed.
From within the mist came a soft, almost musical laughter—a sound that was at once unnerving and oddly soothing. Slowly, the voice grew clearer, shedding its glitch-like quality. "Interesting thoughts," it mused. "So that's what humans think of me in this era."
The mist began to fade, its ephemeral tendrils retreating to reveal a figure within. As the shroud dissolved, Ariyan's eyes widened slightly, though his expression quickly steadied, his gaze sharp and calculating.
The figure was shrouded in an aura that seemed to defy comprehension. His face was a paradox—a mask of serene calm that concealed storms of an ancient soul. There was an unreadable duality in his expression, a perfect balance of kindness and menace, as though he could offer salvation with one hand and destruction with the other. His dark, fathomless eyes glinted faintly, their depths hinting at a wisdom far beyond mortal understanding.
In his slender fingers, he held a simple rod or flut, its edges worn smooth with use. Though he made no motion to wield it, its presence seemed to hum with a quiet power, as if it were alive with an energy that transcended time. Around him, a soft, almost imperceptible melody drifted in the air, an echo of something both ancient and eternal, stirring a strange mix of comfort and unease.
His robes shimmered like twilight, hues shifting between indigo and midnight blue with each subtle motion. Draped around his neck was a faint thread of gold, its pendant hidden but emanating a warmth that seemed to challenge the void itself. Every motion, every glance, carried an unspoken weight, as though the figure stood at the crossroads of myth and reality.
Ariyan's eyes narrowed, his shock quickly fading into a faint, enigmatic smile. Without missing a beat, he said, "Interesting. You said 'humans' like you're not one of us. So, what exactly are you trying to be?"