Chapter 2 - Trial

 "Gazes imprinted upon the immeasurable void. Scribe of the multiverse. Nexus across space and the tributaries of time. With what signs do I know, when thou ferry thy charges."

Journals of Sku-mordall, Sage of upper Leill. From the library of worlds.

For how long he had been unconscious, he had no clue, but he remembered seeing some weird scenes that he couldn't wrap his head around, his brain not wired to the interpretations of it. He could feel that his body wasn't on the chair anymore; the feel of a cold, hard ground replaced it. Working his eyes open, he took in his surroundings, his eyes widening in incomprehension at the unfamiliar environment he was in. He was located in an office, if the obvious centuries of time's abuse and nature's colonization are ignored.

Creeping vines had made the whole place their abode, almost unrecognizable office essentials were strewn about, the only almost intact piece of furniture was a metal chair, but even it was rusted beyond repair.

Picking himself off the ground carefully so as not to catch himself on sharp thorns, he warily checked and listened for signs of his captors, finding none that his physical senses could detect. He made a search with his psychic one. With just a thought, he was in his mindscape; the darkness was mostly gone, replaced by small dots of light of varying sizes and colors, some as small as fireflies and others as big as soccer balls, lights which seemed to originate from the small island lying floating directly in front of him.

His consciousness wasn't in vapor form anymore; it maintained its solidity and majesty from the last time he shaped it to serve his use. Flexing his consciousness a bit, he proceeded to explore what lay before him.

With a step, he was on the island, slowly he walked towards the center, eyes of molten gold taking in his environment. The island was empty save for sapling trees and an oasis in the center of the island until he paused, transfixed. In front of him lay a giant, easily twenty meters tall, sitting atop the oasis. The giant's form was hazy and golden, its hair long and snow white, its torso in perfect ratio, a halo of bright gold crowned its head. The giant looked exactly like his consciousness in likeness, except for its eyes. They were closed.

MY SOUL? He asked no one in particular. But he knew it to be true; what was being imprisoned by the bubble, what the Psi Bridge had always been linked to was never his mindscape like he had believed, it had been his soul all along.

But he had other things to do now; the mysteries of this place would be explored later.

Moving close enough to the giant, he touched it. Immediately his fingers landed on it, ripples passed from the giant to his consciousness, enveloping the whole of the mindscape. The world he perceived exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors; up became down and down became up, memories imprinted onto his mind, and some things he had never done became second nature to him.

Then he was back in the physical, eyes dazed before regaining focus. He willed his mind to see, and it responded. What existed for a distance around him came into view vividly in his mind, and he was shocked by what he saw. He was in a once prosperous modern city, at the heart of it even, but centuries of time had made it ruins. But time wasn't the original culprit; he could see signs of devastation and destruction from weapons he had no idea of their make, their aftermath gouged out the buildings and the earth, bottomless abysses of different widths marred the once beautiful metropolis. The ruin was devoid of life as far as his power could see, save for the occasional critter and crawlers.

Reining in his psychic eye, he grabbed his body with telekinesis, easily flying himself out of the crumbled office walls. Slowly he flew over the ruin, occasionally lifting rubble and demolished construction machines to test his powers. His powers were simply telekinesis and a little bit of telepathy; he could see everything within a significant radius with him at the center.

He could also exercise his telekinetic powers around him with his maximum carrying capacity being substantial; his telepathy wasn't as overpowering, being only able to read snippets of the mind and give minor commands to rodents and squirrels he picked up on his way.

It was in this session of flight and testing his capabilities that something happened. Time stopped, his movement stopped, but his mind didn't, then an incomprehensible script forced its way into reality, shimmering in all colors. Although he didn't understand, the meaning seared itself on his mind nevertheless.

'"WELCOME TO THE AWAKENED TRIALS ADAM CROFT"'

As abruptly as it came, it left, leaving behind loads of information that drowned out his thoughts for a second. A plethora of emotions went through him; helplessness gripped him, and fear of the unknown traumatized him.

Regaining control of his thoughts, he went through the information he was given cautiously, and what he gleaned shocked him to the core of his soul. Then time resumed its march like it never stopped.

He had just been infused with a plethora of the languages of this world and detailed information on the various intelligent races at the world's helm.

Aggressive angels popularly known as Seraphims, undying skeletons that control hordes of undead and death energy, Giants with stupendous physical strengths, and lots more.

Their language, customs, and identification were imprinted on his memory.

This world, Ultralis, had a history similar to Earth's. But that was thousands of years ago. The similarity ended when it got invaded by otherworldly beings.

At the end of the info dump was a quest, one he couldn't ignore; he had two days to head over to a stronghold which he had no clue of its location. The penalty of failure was simple. Annihilation. No second chances.

He knew he had to find civilization; he wasn't ready for death yet. Who doesn't fear death? Maybe the Beyonder?

Harnessing his ability, he headed out to the outskirts of the ruins, populated with colossal trees.

This better not be certain death, was his only thought as he flew off.