BEGINNING OF VOLUME 2: Beyond Human

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To the world, it was the unforgiving darkness.

But to him... it was home.

"The mind of a man truly resigned does not hold any thoughts."

Those words, White now knew to be beyond true.

As he lay in this darkness, nothing crossed his mind at all.

He was already used to this conscious unconsciousness of his, and even so, he was well aware of what had led him to it.

In a way, no afterthoughts were welcomed.

Whether the attacks of the UEF officials had been able to kill him, or whatever Humanity Ascension or the United Earth Federation decided to do with him after,

There were none of those thoughts.

He simply embraced the darkness around him, remaining in it for as long as he could ever know.

But as always, such peace never lasted forever.

There was a ray through the darkness.

At first, it was just an occurrence he could choose not to pay mind to, but then it began to grow more piercing, until it reached a point that forced him to turn his attention toward it.

He opened his eyes, a blue flicker crossing through the void, and slowly, he turned his head to the side, where something beyond his understanding lay.

You could call it the Void, but you wouldn’t be fully correct. As vast as it was, it wasn’t a ’it’.

Better yet, you could call it a she, for her face’s halo was clearly feminine and oval, her long hair stretching as far as the Void behind her, but even that wouldn’t be entirely correct, for a feminine being should not exist in such an astral state.

She was like an astral phantom of a being, possessing only a face and hair, her body seemingly fused with the void itself.

The aura of such a being should have filled White with awe, but there was absolutely nothing on his face.

It was completely motionless, as if he had seen this being a million times already and could not be any more bored at the sight of her.

"How weary is your soul."

There was no mouth on the face, but the voice reached White, who slowly turned his head away from her, looking into the dark void above.

"Can you turn off your light..."

He asked, as silence descended upon the void.

"I only want the darkness."

"The solace you find in darkness is never true..."

She said to him, her words gently echoing through his being.

"What other choice do I have?"

He responded.

What could comfort him right now, if not the darkness?

"You do have a choice."

She said to him, and he turned to her, watching as astral light began to emerge from the void, soon forming what appeared to be her arms.

There were two, folded together, and slowly, they moved above White, then parted.

"You have the choice of originality."

When the hands parted, it revealed they were holding something, and whatever it was carried so much weight that White felt it deep within himself.

His eyes flickered with light, one of unexplainable familiarity, as he looked at what was above him.

It was something within an orb, and the most fitting description of it was a womb.

And within that womb... a child.

It was folded in, like children are, but what made it different was what it was made of.

It was astral, yet not like the astrality of the being before him.

This... child was made of millions of tiny motes of light, each one never repeating itself.

It was like a coalescence of every color that existed in the universe, quietly still within the orb.

White felt an unexplained heaviness upon him, two decisions overwhelming his mind:

To move forward and touch the child, like his unconscious was screaming to him.

Or to pull away from it in caution.

In the end, both choices canceled each other out, leaving White exactly where he was.

"What... what is that?"

He asked, watching as the hands began to fold back in, covering the child before disappearing along with it.

"That is your original soul."

"No!"

White said.

"I’ve seen my soul before. It’s made of three colors, crimson and dark, with a tiny bit of white around my heart."

"My soul is the farthest thing from a purity like that."

He said.

The being did not argue. Its face remained turned toward White, and after a stretch of silence, it asked:

"Why do you think you were chosen?"

"Chosen?"

White asked.

"The power you have fused with, the Endio Supernatural System. Why do you think it chose you?"

She asked him.

There was the thought of her knowing the system, something he had kept secret from everything but himself, but the question of how she knew never came.

"I was simply lucky to be chosen."

He replied.

And that was the truth.

He had been made to regress, and that was it. There was no predetermined action on his path.

What else could it be, if not luck?

"Perhaps it could be called luck if one indeed came upon a powerful artifact."

She admitted.

"But having the concept of time itself forcibly reversed? No. That is not luck."

She said, and it only took a moment of silence before White asked:

"So you’re the one behind it all?"

"The system... the regression? You made it all happen?"

He asked, a pulse of shock running through him.

"All of it, along with its consequences, for one purpose."

She said.

And he paused, remembering.

The system had indeed mentioned having an ulterior motive, a purpose.

Though it had also said White wasn’t qualified enough to hear it, as his strength was insufficient.

White had pushed it to the back of his mind after that, never truly thinking about it again.

But now, standing before the one responsible for it all, the desire to know everything surged within him.

"For what purpose?"

White asked.

And after a silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, she replied.

"To earn your trust."