Lloyd lay on a cold surface.
But “cold” wasn’t the right word — because coldness requires comparison with warmth, and here, there was no warmth.
Only an absence of temperature, a sensory void that had itself become a sensation.
He couldn’t describe the surface beneath his hands.
It wasn’t soil, nor stone, nor metal.
It was something else.
Something like a mirror — but frosted.
And beneath it, a gentle wave rippled — like the skin of a colossal being breathing.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
There was no sky.
Above was only whiteness — not a color, not the absence of color, but a thing that settles in the eye and does not pass.
He surveyed all four sides.
There were no walls.
No pillars.
Yet he felt enclosed — an invisible pressure on his shoulders and skull.
“…Where am I? Last thing I remember, I was asleep in my bed.”
No voice answered.
But something took form.
First, a shadow.
A shadow with no source of light.
Then light.
From within the shadow.
A combination that shouldn’t be possible: darkness and brightness in one place.
Then bone.
Bone that had never been attached to flesh.
Then fire.
Through the bone.
Fire that didn’t burn — only changed.
Then — a faceless human.
Then — a monster with a thousand eyes.
Then — a laughing child.
Then — an old man weeping.
And it repeated.
The form shifted every moment.
As if this being was so vast it could not remain within a single shape.
And then the voice came.
Not from one throat — from many.
Multiple tones — woman, man, child, elder.
“Welcome… mortal.”
Lloyd pulled back.
The being — if it could be called a “being” — continued:
“I am Araka.”
Lloyd said: “Are you… an angel? A demon?”
Araka laughed.
A childlike laugh — then a mad laugh — then a sorrowful laugh.
All three laughs simultaneously from one mouth.
Its voice came from every direction:
“I am neither angel, nor demon. I was before the division.”
Before the division.
Before anyone said, “This is light, that is darkness.”
Lloyd only then realized: his knees didn’t hurt.
He had no pain at all.
He had no stutter.
His breathing was calm.
It was as if he’d left his real body behind and only himself had come here.
“Where is this?”
Araka raised its hand.
The hand — if it could be called a hand — transformed into a branch.
The branch transformed into light.
The light transformed into cracks.
And suddenly, their surroundings fractured.
In the fissures, worlds could be seen.
One world: A city burning.
But its fire was blue.
Another world: A sky torn open.
From within the tear, white things poured out.
Another world: Beings warring in the void.
Lloyd wanted to look away.
He couldn’t.
Araka grew calmer.
Its form held still for a few seconds.
A tall human.
Very tall.
Eyes without end.
It said: “You… are like me, mortal.”
Lloyd froze.
What did “like me” mean?
“What is your name?”
Lloyd opened his mouth.
He wanted to say “Lloyd Smith.” But before any word could escape —
Space tore open.
This was a rending.
A vast curtain slashed from top to bottom.
From the fissure, something emerged.
Better to say: it entered.
A cosmic entity.
Larger than the concept of size.
It had four arms.
Each arm pointed in a different direction.
A closed eye at the center of its faceless face.
Beneath the eyelid, something stirred.
Its skin was utterly white.
The white of the absence of color.
Chains of golden light coiled around its body — they were made of law.
With its arrival, reality began to collapse.
The worlds within the fissures went dark, one by one.
Araka’s form became unstable.
In a tone that was, for the first time, cautious — it said: “Creator of Truth, why have you come here?”
The cosmic entity didn’t move.
But the voice came.
Directly inside Lloyd’s consciousness.
“Human… mortal… your soul belongs to me.”
Araka suddenly turned toward Lloyd.
Its many voices screamed:
“Go, mortal human.”
Before Lloyd could react — a gray mist coiled around him.
This mist was a fusion of white light and darkness.
Something between both.
The mist clung to his body.
It was only emptiness.
It was void.
And when void clings to your body, you can no longer tell where your boundaries end and the void begins.
Lloyd wanted to scream.
His throat opened.
But no sound came out.
Not because he had a stutter — but because sound had no meaning in this space.
The world folded in on itself.
The closed eye of the cosmic entity trembled for a moment.
Beneath the eyelid, something wanted to burst out.
And Lloyd vanished into the mist.
The whiteness shattered.
Cracks ran from the center to the edges — and there were no edges.
And everything went dark.