A single teardrop fell from Sol's eye as he returned to the waking world, its descent almost illusionary in the stillness of the bar. The hushed atmosphere seemed to stretch, the weight of something indescribable lingering in the air.
Sol took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in measured steadiness before his eyes fluttered open. But they were no longer the same jade green filled with youthful curiosity. Instead, his irises had transformed into a profound shade of purple, the color of an endless, starry sky. Galaxies swirled faintly within them, shifting like the cosmos itself.
His gaze slowly moved around the bar, his mind working to recollect himself, to process the vastness of what had just transpired. The patrons, watching him intently, felt an unspoken reverence settle over them. They had seen countless transformations before—visions had changed people, granted insight, or even shattered minds. But this? This was something different.
The boy who had gone in was not the same one who had returned. There was an undeniable weight in his stare, an agelessness that did not belong to someone so young. It was as if he had lived millennia in mere moments.
No one knew what to say. Some were unnerved, shifting in their seats, while others leaned forward with burning curiosity. The old man behind the bar studied Sol with an unreadable expression, his usual warmth masked by something deeper.
The silence was broken abruptly.
Peach, having caused some kind of commotion on the side, suddenly zipped through the air at high speed, flying straight toward Sol. The AI bear let out a delighted hum as he rubbed his cheek against Sol's before perching on his shoulder, its tiny limbs gripping onto him as if anchoring him back to reality.
Sol, still disoriented, blinked at Peach's antics before his lips curved into a small, genuine smile. Despite everything—despite the incomprehensible journey he had just endured—seeing Peach was enough to ground him again, if only for a moment.
The old man's voice, steady and warm, cut through the lingering silence. "Welcome back, traveler. It seems you gained a lot in your journey."
Sol slowly turned his gaze toward him, his deep purple eyes locking onto the bartender's. For a brief moment, the old man felt as though he was being seen through, as if every part of him was laid bare beneath that cosmic stare. But then, he smiled. I'm liking this kid more and more, he thought to himself.
Sol, still disoriented, blinked before answering with a vague, "I guess."
The old man let out a hearty chuckle. "That's normal. Your mind is exhausted—you just need to rest a bit. Let the experience settle. It always takes time."
Seeing Sol's distant state, the old man placed a reassuring hand on the counter. "I've got a room for you to stay in. You need rest."
Sol, still lost in thought, absentmindedly nodded.
With a knowing chuckle, the old man called over the raccoon girl. "Take him to one of the guest rooms."
Sol hesitated for a moment, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his credits in an attempt to pay. The old man merely chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry about that now, son. Get some rest—we'll deal with that later."
Sol gave a small nod, his mind clearly still elsewhere. The bartender only smiled, watching the young traveler drift along the motions of reality once more.
As they made their way toward the back rooms, the raccoon girl stole a glance at him, curiosity burning in her eyes. "So? What did you see?"
Sol's voice came out absentmindedly, distant yet unwavering. "Everything."
She froze mid-step, turning to look at him with wide eyes. The moment their gazes met, a shiver ran down her spine. The depth in his stare was too much—too vast, too old. Quickly, she averted her gaze and hurriedly led him the rest of the way, choosing not to ask any more questions.
Back at the bar, as soon as Sol was out of sight, the murmurs started. Then, like a floodgate bursting open, the entire place erupted into an uproar.
"Did you see his eyes?!"
"What the hell happened to that kid?!"
"No way, no damn way—how does he come back like **that** when I barely got anything?!"
Some grumbled, feeling like they'd been cheated. Others whispered excitedly, speculating about what kind of vision could change someone so drastically. One thing was certain—Sol had just become the center of attention in the bar, whether he wanted to be or not.
"What do you think he saw?" a wiry man with a cybernetic eye asked, leaning forward with fascination.
"Tch. Probably some grand cosmic truth or whatever. Look at those eyes! You don't get eyes like that from just any vision," another patron muttered, swirling his drink absentmindedly.
"Maybe he saw the birth of a star," a woman with emerald-hued skin mused. "I've heard some people get glimpses of celestial creation."
"Or the end of the universe," someone else chimed in. "Some folks see destruction, the void consuming all. Maybe the kid just stared into the abyss too long."
Another man scoffed. "What if he saw the Gods themselves? There are stories of some people catching glimpses of beings beyond comprehension, but that's just myth, right?"
"Myth?" the bartender finally spoke up, setting a fresh glass down with a quiet thud. "In this place? Where reality bends and breaks? Tell me, what part of this universe do you still believe is just myth?"
The bar fell silent for a moment, the weight of the old man's words settling over them. Then, a voice from the back called out, "Well, whatever it was, the kid sure as hell ain't the same."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. A few patrons still grumbled about their own comparatively lackluster experiences, but the focus remained on Sol. No one could deny that something profound had happened to him—something beyond their understanding.
"Guess we'll just have to wait and see what that kid does next," a smuggler muttered before taking a long sip of his drink."