The being of light remained silent for a long moment, its radiant form shifting like a nebula in motion. Sol could feel its presence pressing against his very essence, not as an oppressive force, but as something vast and immeasurable—something that simply was.
Then, it spoke again.
"You rage against the nature of existence itself," it mused. "You desire to grasp the infinite, yet resent the impossibility of it. You wish to see all, yet fear the emptiness such knowledge might bring. You are a contradiction in every sense, your entire being a paradox. I have never encountered another quite like you."
Sol exhaled sharply, his hands tightening at his sides. "I don't resent it," he muttered. "I just don't know how to accept it."
The being's glow pulsed, as if considering his words. Then, for the first time, it moved. One luminous hand reached toward Sol, hovering just before his chest. The space between them crackled with an energy beyond light, beyond heat—something raw and elemental.
"Then see."
Before Sol could react, the world broke.
Or perhaps, it expanded.
A rush of sensations flooded through him, too vast, too complex to be contained in thought. He was falling and rising all at once, his mind torn across the threads of reality. Stars burst into existence and collapsed in the blink of an eye. Galaxies spun around him, their spirals whispering secrets no mortal could comprehend.
And in that chaos, in that infinite maelstrom of creation and destruction, Sol saw something.
Not an answer. Not a truth.
Something beyond both.
And it was waiting for him to understand.
But instead of clarity, Sol was overwhelmed. The flood of knowledge pressed against his mind, far too vast to be grasped at once. He witnessed fragments of something incomprehensible—echoes of the past, glimpses of the future, and visions of something beyond time itself. He saw himself in different forms, different possibilities—paths that could have been, paths that might yet be. Each version of him flickered through the cosmic storm, some standing in triumph, others lost in despair, some utterly unrecognizable.
The being watched him, silent, observing whether he would break under the weight of revelation or endure.
Then, as if sensing the danger of too much at once, the flood of knowledge narrowed. The being guided Sol's focus, directing him toward something specific—a moment, a choice that stood out among the infinite.
"What do you see?" the being asked, its voice steady, testing him.
Sol struggled to latch onto a single thread among the endless expanse, his mind trying to make sense of the unfathomable. It was a question, one that clawed at the very core of his being. What did this mean? Why was this vision being shown to him?
And then—another voice. One that did not belong to the being before him.
"Look too far, and you may never return."
The presence was different, something older, something warning him. The words were not spoken as a threat, but as a caution. There was a cost to knowing, an unseen price waiting to be paid.
The being of light did not deny it. It merely watched, allowing Sol to decide.
Would he keep going, pushing past the barrier that had been placed before him?
As Sol watched on, he began to grasp fragments of understanding, bits and pieces forming within the chaos. Then, suddenly, he turned—his gaze locking onto the featureless face of the being. The cosmos continued to swirl past them, but his focus was unwavering.
"Why?" he asked, his voice steady yet filled with uncertainty. "Why are you showing me this?"
The moment the words left his mouth, it was as if the universe itself shattered. Reality folded in on itself, and in an instant, Sol was back beneath the cosmic tree, standing exactly where he had begun.
The being gave off something intangible, a feeling akin to a smile, its light pulsing with quiet amusement.
"That is a question only you can answer," it said, its voice filled with something far beyond wisdom—something unknowable.
Then, the being's presence shifted. "It is time," it murmured.
Before Sol could react, a glowing finger extended and lightly tapped his forehead. The touch was weightless, yet the force behind it was undeniable. Instantly, Sol felt himself being pulled, his very essence yanked backward through existence itself.
The cosmic tree, the endless expanse, the being of light—all of it blurred into a spiraling void. Just as the sensation of falling became too much, a whisper curled through the depths of his mind, soft yet absolute.
"We will meet again. This is not goodbye."
And then—
Sol gasped awake, his body jolting back into reality.