Ever thought about how, when you fall asleep, you're embraced by the warm arms of oblivion, drifting back into the nothingness while your body rests? Dreams are the only flickers of life we see in that void. The rest is pitch-black darkness, seeping into your skull as you surrender reality.
"Kaelith."
And yet… here I am, staring upon my fate. The stars glimmer in the twilight sky, their light seeping into me, filling me with their essence as the world begins to bend around me.
The concept of dimensions has… changed me. I've never felt so weak, so fragile, in this human body. It's perfect, in a way—a foundation waiting to shatter, then be rebuilt. Strength is born in fragility, isn't it? Inner power gleams like glass shimmering in the sun—fragile beauty waiting to break and reform.
The stars' essence lingered, a faint glimmer in my groggy gaze, as the mundane tugged me back. "Kaelith, Kaelith, Kaelith." My name was an anchor, dragging me from celestial reverie back to the disarray of my room.
I stirred, groaning as I blinked against the pale morning light slipping through the curtains. Mikael stood at the foot of my bed, arms crossed, smirking faintly. Concern flickered in his eyes, though he masked it well.
"How'd you get in?" I rasped, my voice thick with sleep.
"Spare key," he said, tossing it onto the nearby bookshelf with a casual flick of his wrist.
I rubbed my temples, trying to piece myself together. "I told you to give that back."
"You did," he said with a shrug. "I ignored you. Anyway, I came to see if you're still coming to the bonfire tomorrow night. Everyone from work's going, and—let's be real—you need to leave this cave once in a while."
I blinked, trying to process his words. A dull hum throbbed behind my eyes. My arms tingled faintly as if electricity coursed beneath my skin. The world around me seemed to twist, faint and imperceptible—like a mirage.
"Kaelith?" Mikael frowned, leaning forward slightly. "You're spacing out. Are you okay? You're not messing around with that stuff again, are you?"
"No," I muttered, shaking my head. "I just… slept wrong. My body feels off."
Mikael didn't look convinced, but he let it go. Instead, his gaze drifted to my bookshelf. "You still have those comics?"
"Manga," I corrected automatically, brushing my hair back. "Yeah. I've been telling you to read them for months. Fine, take a season. Bring them back before you ask for more."
He chuckled, grabbing a stack of Naruto volumes. "Thanks, man. Don't let work bury you, okay? And maybe think about the bonfire. You could use a break."
He left with a casual wave, the door clicking shut behind him. I fell back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. The ringing in my ears returned, faint at first, like a distant hum. It grew louder, more insistent. My breath hitched as the edges of my vision rippled—shimmering waves bending reality itself.
And then, I saw it.
A vast expanse of stars stretched endlessly across a dark void. Each one pulsed with a rhythm that resonated deep in my chest. My heartbeat quickened. The room flickered, dissolving into the cosmos, the walls falling away like ash in the wind.
The vision was brief, like a flash of eternity compressed into a single heartbeat. When it ended, I was left trembling, my breath shallow and ragged. "What's happening to me?" I whispered.
I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself. My thoughts drifted back to the first time I'd seen the stars' truth—a year ago.
It had been a night much like this one. I was lying in a field outside the city, the cool grass beneath me, a canopy of stars above. Everything was still. Everything was ordinary. Until it wasn't.
The stars expanded, their light growing sharper, more vivid. Constellations shifted, rearranging into intricate patterns I couldn't comprehend. Strands of stardust wove through the sky, forming luminous pathways. Colors bled into the night—vivid hues I had no name for.
And then I felt it: a pull deep within my chest, as if some invisible thread connected me to the cosmos. My body remained rooted to the earth, but my essence… my essence soared.
I passed through galaxies, through worlds teeming with life. I saw beings whose forms defied comprehension, their consciousness brushing against mine. They didn't speak, but their presence was a question, a whisper: Do you see?
The vision ended as abruptly as it began. I was left trembling in the field, the stars above me faint and distant once more. But I was not the same.
Now, as I lay in my room, the memory burned in my mind. The stars were calling again, their whispers threading through my thoughts like a melody I couldn't quite grasp. I knew this was only the beginning.
The ringing in my ears swelled, and the edges of my world began to dissolve once more. Reality bent and folded, the mundane falling away. I reached out, and for the first time, I felt the fabric of existence yield beneath my touch.
This fragile human body was only the start. The universe was waiting for me.
And I was ready to break free.