In the weeks following the incident, life gradually returned to its usual rhythm. As the final project for college approached, I found myself in the library, immersed in research and preparation. The library was a sanctuary of quietude, the soft rustle of pages and occasional whispers creating a cocoon of concentration.
It was then that she entered – a woman whose presence immediately caught my attention. Her skin was a radiant, deep shade of brown, glowing under the library's fluorescent lights. Her hair, a magnificent crown of big, luscious curls, framed her face beautifully, emphasizing her striking features. She was of average height, but there was an elegance in her posture that made her stand out. Her eyes, dark and expressive, scanned the room before settling on a table next to mine.
There was something unmistakably different about her, a sense that she was not just another student or visitor. As The Witness, I could sense the pseudo- soul within her, yet it was unlike any I had encountered before. It had a distinct feel to it, a vibrancy that was both intriguing and unsettling.
She seemed absorbed in her own world, pulling out books and notes, yet there was a gracefulness in her movements. Her focus was intense, as if each book held secrets she was determined to uncover. Intrigued, I found my attention divided between my studies and the mysterious woman. The aura she exuded was not just of intelligence and grace, but of something deeper, something that resonated with the very core of my being.
As I continued to observe her, engrossed in her studies yet exuding an aura of enigma, our gazes suddenly met. Her response was immediate and direct, her voice tinged with a sharpness that caught me off guard.
"Hey, is there a reason you're staring at me like that? It's kind of creepy, you know," she said, her tone brisk, yet there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes.
Taken aback by her straightforwardness, I scrambled for a response. "Oh, I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. It's just that you seemed familiar. Have we met before?" I asked, trying to deflect my true interest in her unusual presence.
She raised an eyebrow, skepticism written across her face. "I doubt it. I have a pretty good memory for faces. And I think I would remember someone who stares as intensely as you do."
Her sharp tongue and assertive demeanour indicated a person accustomed to direct confrontation, unafraid to speak her mind. It was a complete contrast to the typical interactions I experienced as Ichabod.
"I guess I was mistaken then. My apologies for making you uncomfortable. I'm Ichabod “I said, extending my hand in a gesture of friendliness.
She closed her book with a soft thud, her expression softening slightly. "I'm Maya. And it's fine, I guess. Just try to keep the staring to a minimum” she took my hand briefly.
"Understood, Maya. I promise to be more discreet in my... people watching," I replied with a half-smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
Maya chuckled dryly, the corners of her mouth curling up ever so slightly. "People watching, huh? That's one way to put it. So, what department are you in, Ichabod?"
"I'm in the Accounting department," I said, feeling a strange sense of ease talking to her. "Final year, working on my thesis. And you?"
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"Psychology," Maya responded, her eyes lighting up with a spark of interest. "I'm fascinated by what makes people tick, the inner workings of the mind. Hence, the library is like my second home." She smiled.
"That's quite intriguing," I replied, feeling genuinely interested. "Understanding human behavior must give you a unique perspective on things."
"It really does. People are complex creatures.”
“So accounting, huh? She continued “Numbers and figures. I suppose there's a certain beauty in that”.
"I know, it's a far cry from the complexities of psychology. But numbers have their own way of telling stories, you know? You just have to know how to listen."
Maya laughed “Numbers telling stories? Now that's an interesting perspective. Makes me wonder what else you listen to."
Our conversation continued, delving into the nuances of our respective fields. Maya spoke passionately about her latest research into cognitive behaviors, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. I shared insights from my project, discussing the complexities of financial systems.
As we conversed, the air around us began to shift subtly. The reality of the library, with its rows of books and studious silence, started to fade like a thread unravelling at the seams. The people around me, including Maya, the shelves, even the solid walls of the building began to dissolve into nothingness.
In their place, a surreal landscape began to emerge. Imposing monoliths resembling faces, crowned with the intricate gears of clocks, rose from the void as if buoyed by the breath of creation itself. These faces, stoic and grand, bore the patina of eons. The towering monoliths stood like titans, the ticking of their temporal adornments reverberated through the expanse, a symphony of endless moments that composed the heartbeat of this cosmic expanse.
The background transitioned into a realm that resembled my own, but with energy that far surpassed mine. Stars cascaded like a celestial downpour, their light streaking across the cosmos in a dazzling display of natural luminance, while the eerie monoliths shifted and rearranged themselves in a mesmerizing dance.
Then came the voice, commanding and unmistakably feminine.
"Eon, you've been called forth."
The name struck a chord deep within my essence. Eon – the true name of my consciousness, given to me by VANTA, a name that held the weight of eons within its syllables.
The voice, powerful and resonant, weighed upon my essence. The words were not just heard, but felt, a vibration that coursed through the sinews of the realm.
As I looked up to the vast space, my gaze was met by a piercing emerald, colossal sized green eyes, emerging from clouds of shimmering crystals which enveloped the sky. One eye resembling a ticking clock, the other a blazing nova, as if it were the very gateway to the soul of time itself, its gaze both awe-inspiring and intimidating. In that moment, I realized I was in the presence of the enigmatic Vanta.
A sense of trepidation washed over my essence. Vanta, the creator of pseudo-souls, the master of all consciousness, was a being of immense power and mystery. To stand before her was both an honor and a fear-inducing experience.
My form, or what constituted my presence in this realm, trembled in Vanta's magnificent presence. Her gaze seemed to penetrate the core of my being.
"Eon," she spoke again, her voice echoing through the expanse. "You have witnessed the passage of time, the flow of existence. But now, you stand at the threshold of a truth that transcends your understanding."
I struggled to find words, my voice barely more than a whisper in the vastness of this cosmic realm. "Vanta, why have you summoned me?
“Your time as The Witness has come to an end. You are now to become the destroyer of time," VANTA proclaimed, her voice reverberating through the cosmic realm.
Confusion and disbelief coursed through my very essence, The destroyer of time? How am I to fulfill such a role?" I asked, my voice echoing in the vastness of her presence.
"The knowledge you seek will come to you in time. You must destroy the realms corrupted by the anomaly you encountered – the soul that has defied the framework of existence. Beware, do not be tempted to encounter this soul again. It will corrupt your essence and void your new purpose," VANTA's voice was both a warning and a command.
"But why? Why must these realms be destroyed? And what will become of the corrupted soul?" I probed, seeking clarity in this bewildering turn of events.
"That knowledge is not yours to hold, Eon. Focus on your task. The balance must be maintained," VANTA replied, her words final, leaving no room for further questions.
As abruptly as it began, the encounter ended, and I was thrust back into the physical realm, into Ichabod's body sitting in the library. To Maya, it appeared as though I had merely zoned out for a second.
"You okay there? You kind of spaced out. Did I bore you with my chatter?" Maya's voice brought me back to the present, her tone a mix of concern and playful sarcasm.
"Sorry," I apologized, trying to mask my inner turmoil. "I guess I'm just a bit tired from working on my thesis. It's been a long day”
Maya looked at me, a playful smirk on her lips. "It's fine. I've been told I can be a bit boring”
I quickly shook my head, eager to dispel her self-deprecation. "No, not at all, Maya. Your insights into psychology are far from boring. It's just been a long day, and my mind tends to wander sometimes."
Maya leaned back in her chair, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Well, as long as I'm not putting you to sleep. Psychology can be fascinating, but I get that it's not everyone's cup of tea."
As our conversation continued, part of my consciousness remained preoccupied with VANTA's words. The role of a 'destroyer of time' was an overwhelming concept, one that I struggled to reconcile with my existence as The Witness.