I nervously scanned my surroundings, trying to locate the source of the voice. Suddenly, a crisp clapping sound broke the silence.
"Clap. Clap. Clap."
"Hello, Leng Chen."
I quickly turned toward the sound, my eyes falling on a figure standing under a pool of light not far ahead. In the darkness, the glow around him was as sharp as a spotlight on a stage, as if the entire space existed solely to highlight his presence.
He was dressed in a flawlessly tailored black suit, every fold smoothed to perfection. A dark bow tie and a tall top hat added a touch of vintage elegance. In his hand was an intricately carved cane, the tip tapping lightly on the ground with a faint rhythm. His face was indistinct, genderless, as if blurred by some unseen force. But his eyes—those deep, abyssal eyes—seemed to pull at my very consciousness, swallowing my gaze.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to steady my voice, though the tremor was unmistakable. "How do you know my name? What is this place?"
The corner of his mouth curled into a faint, knowing smile, as though he had anticipated my questions long before I asked them. His deep, resonant voice echoed in the void:
"Leng Chen, don't be afraid. I mean you no harm."
He dipped his head slightly, tipping his hat in an elegant gesture. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Valentine Dusk. I am a follower of a certain King. You may call me Dusk."
"A follower of… a King?" I repeated, frowning in confusion. "Dusk?"
"Exactly," he replied with a slight nod, his tone calm yet carrying an indefinable weight. "I imagine you have many questions. It's only natural for someone newly arrived."
Dusk gently swept his cane through the air. The oppressive darkness around us seemed to peel away, revealing a vast, barren space. His voice carried a subtle, magnetic quality as he continued:
"This is the Dimension of Consciousness—or, as some call it, the Soul Dimension. Countless small worlds intersect here, and you now stand in one of them. A very special one, to be precise."
He paused, his enigmatic smile widening slightly. "Or, to put it more directly—this is my world."
"Your world?" I tightened my grip on the iron rod in my hand, my heart pounding against my chest.
"Indeed," Dusk confirmed, his tone measured and steady. "This is my conscious domain, a space carved from my own awareness. And your arrival here… it's like a pebble dropped into a still pond, creating ripples."
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. "Why am I here? And what about those shadows outside? What are they?"
Dusk studied me for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Finally, he spoke:
"Ordinary people cannot enter the Dimension of Consciousness through mere meditation. It typically requires extreme circumstances. But you…" He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, "You managed to breach this dimension with nothing more than meditation. It suggests that your identity is… far more extraordinary than even you realize."
Though his tone was composed, it sent a chill down my spine. Swallowing hard, I pressed further. "And the shadows? What are they?"
"They are empty shells," Dusk replied dismissively, as though the creatures were of no significance. "Fragments of souls stripped of their awareness, devoid of self. Long ago, I collected remnants of souls and crafted them into those forms."
"Empty shells?" I echoed, struggling to make sense of his words.
"Yes," Dusk said, his voice low and deliberate. "A soul is but a framework, a vessel of potential. It is consciousness that breathes life into it, granting individuality. When consciousness is stripped away, what remains is nothing but a hollow husk."
He chuckled softly, a sound both unsettling and oddly reassuring. "You should consider yourself fortunate to have entered my world. Had it been another follower's domain, your fate would likely be far more precarious."
"Other followers?" I caught onto his phrasing. "You mean there are others like you?"
Dusk tapped his cane lightly against the ground, the sound echoing in the vast emptiness. "The Dimension of Consciousness is vast," he said, his voice carrying an air of mystery. "There are far more followers than you might imagine. This realm isn't without order—it's ruled by the Eight Kings."
"The Eight Kings?"
He nodded slowly, reverence slipping into his tone. "Yes. Fear, Hope, Chaos, Order, Memory, Creation, Destruction, and Reincarnation. These Eight Kings preside over the Dimension, each ruling a distinct domain. We followers extend their will within and beyond this realm."
There was something both alluring and ominous in his words, a blend of reverence and warning that left me uneasy. I met his abyssal gaze, my unease deepening. It felt as though my presence here was no accident, that I had already been drawn into a far greater game. But what role was I meant to play?