The next day, Kenji wandered around the property, searching for his siblings. He had a feeling where they’d be—down by the old oak near the edge of the field, where they always went when something heavy weighed on them. Sure enough, as he neared, he heard their voices, low and tense, drifting through the breeze.
As he got closer, he could make out his sister’s voice, sharp with frustration. “It’s insane. Just because Dad’s family suddenly decides they need us doesn’t mean we should drop everything. We’ve got lives here. Friends, a future. And they don’t even like us!”
His other sister spoke up, her voice quieter but laced with worry. “But Hiroshi is family too. He’s always been there for us, and he’s sick. I… I don’t know. It’s so confusing.”
Their younger brother, arms crossed and face scrunched in a mixture of defiance and fear, shook his head. “It’s not fair. We shouldn’t have to do this just because Dad wants to help people who never wanted anything to do with us.”
Kenji stepped forward, making himself known, and they all turned to look at him. He could see the same storm of emotions on their faces that he felt twisting in his own chest. “Hey,” he said, settling down beside them. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it either.”
The silence that followed was thick, each of them trying to make sense of the mix of feelings churning inside them. His older sister let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “I don’t get it, Kenji. Why should we go and help people who’ve never been there for us? Why should we give up everything just because they’re finally calling?”
Kenji nodded slowly. “I know. It’s not like they’ve ever given us a reason to care about them. And yet… I don’t know. Dad… he has this way of making kindness feel like it’s not just the best choice, but the only choice, you know?”
His younger brother, still scowling, mumbled, “Yeah, that’s Dad all right. Always talking about honor and kindness like they’re the only things that matter. Sometimes I wish he didn’t believe in them so much.”
Their other sister, her voice softer, looked at each of them. “But don’t you think… I mean, don’t you feel that he’s kind of right? That maybe we should be the bigger people, even if it hurts?”
Kenji rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of her words settle in. He thought back to his father’s expression the night before—the sadness in his eyes, the way he’d spoken about family and kindness like they were the only things worth holding onto. “It’s like… he makes it sound so simple. Like helping, like going to Japan, is just the right thing to do, no matter how wrong it feels to us.”
His older sister huffed but didn’t disagree. “Yeah, that’s Dad for you. Always has a way of making us feel guilty for even thinking of not doing the right thing.”
They all fell silent, each lost in their thoughts, wrestling with the conflicting emotions inside them—anger, hesitation, resentment, and, strangely, a growing sense of responsibility. As much as they hated the idea of leaving their lives behind, as much as they resented the family that had never accepted them, a part of them felt like they had no other choice.
Kenji finally spoke, his voice quiet. “Maybe… maybe that’s what kindness is. Doing the hard thing, even when it doesn’t make sense, because it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s who we want to be.”
The others looked at him, and slowly, they each nodded, a reluctant acceptance settling over them. They knew their father would never force them into this. He’d left the decision up to them, but somehow that made it harder to resist. In the end, maybe that was his gift—the ability to make them see kindness not as an obligation, but as something they wanted to choose, even when it hurt.
Together, they sat in the quiet shade of the oak tree, the weight of the decision they had just made pressing down on them. It was frightening, filled with unknowns, but as they looked at each other, they felt a little stronger. They would face this change together, as a family, just as their father had always taught them.
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The family bustled around the car, packing the last of their bags as Uncle Michael stood nearby, leaning against the driver’s side with a watchful eye. He’d offered to drive them to the airport, giving them a proper send-off. The other Thompsons had agreed to look after the farm and the house, to keep it safe and cared for as long as they were away. Kenji couldn’t help but feel a pang of gratitude for his uncle and the family they were leaving behind, knowing that their home would be in good hands.
Michael helped load the bags into the car, his hands moving with practiced ease. He caught Kenji’s eye, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’ll be back before you know it, Kenji. We’ll keep things just the way you left them.”
Kenji nodded, managing a small smile. “Thanks, Uncle Mike.”
The drive to the airport was quiet, each family member lost in their own thoughts, watching the landscape they knew so well slip by, inch by inch, mile by mile. Kenji glanced back at the fields as they rolled away from the farm, feeling the bittersweet ache of leaving behind the life they’d known. His siblings sat quietly beside him, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.
When they finally arrived at the airport, Michael helped unload the bags, giving each of them a tight, lingering hug. He held Kenji close, a quiet strength in his embrace. “Take care of each other,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And remember, this will always be home.”
They exchanged a final round of goodbyes, the weight of the departure settling in as they walked through the terminal, Michael’s figure receding behind them. After the usual rush of tickets, security checks, and boarding, they found themselves seated on the plane, bracing for the journey ahead.
The flight itself was uneventful, hours of quiet punctuated by brief conversations and naps, each of them lost in thoughts of what lay ahead. Kenji tried to imagine what it would feel like to set foot in Japan—not just as a visitor, but knowing it would be home for an indefinite time. It felt surreal, like something that couldn’t fully sink in until they arrived.
When they finally touched down in Kyoto, the unfamiliar airport buzzed with sounds and voices that felt both foreign and faintly familiar, echoes of the stories and customs his father had shared over the years. Kenji stepped off the plane and felt the coolness of the air, the crispness that came with the place he’d always heard about but barely knew.
As they made their way through customs, Kenji took in the sights around him—the signs in Japanese, the unfamiliar but steady flow of people moving with quiet efficiency. His siblings looked around with wide eyes, and he felt a strange pang in his chest, knowing that while this was technically their heritage, it felt as foreign to them as any other country might.
They gathered their bags and walked into the airport’s arrival hall, and Kenji caught sight of Hiroshi’s wife waiting just outside the gates, her face a mixture of relief and weariness. She stepped forward, giving Aiko and Emily a quick bow, and then smiled warmly at Kenji and his siblings.
“Welcome to Kyoto,” she said softly, her eyes reflecting a quiet gratitude. “Thank you… all of you, for coming.”
Kenji nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle over him. He glanced at his father, who gave him a reassuring look, one that reminded him of why they had come, of what they were here to do.
And with that, they stepped out into the city, into a place that would soon become their, at least for now, new home.
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The drive from the airport to the Nakamura family compound was quiet, the weight of anticipation heavy in the car. They had left the bustling heart of Kyoto and were now on the city’s outskirts, where the landscape shifted into low hills and narrow roads lined with tall, whispering trees. As they neared the entrance to the family grounds, Kenji caught his first glimpse of the compound—a sprawling complex with traditional rooftops and elegant stone pathways weaving through manicured gardens, surrounded by an old, moss-covered wall.
As they passed through the main entrance, Kenji’s gaze shifted to a small gathering of people clustered near the entrance. They were watching the car with expressions that ranged from cool disinterest to barely concealed disapproval. Some exchanged quiet, disapproving whispers, their eyes tracking the car as it slowly wound its way along the narrow path leading to the main housing complex. Kenji felt his stomach tighten. There was nothing welcoming about their faces; he could practically feel their judgment pressing down on him and his family.
His father drove in silence, his face unreadable, though Kenji noticed the subtle tension in Aiko’s jaw. His mother, seated beside him, kept a hand on her lap, her fingers twitching slightly, as if she too felt the chill in their reception.
The car came to a stop in front of the main building, an imposing structure that looked both dignified and daunting. Standing on the steps leading up to the entrance was an older man, tall and broad-shouldered, with a solid, almost immovable stance that belied his age. His hair was graying at the temples, but his posture was strong and sure, a testament to a lifetime of discipline and physical rigor. His dark eyes assessed them sharply, and at his side, Kenji noticed, was a sword, sheathed and secured with a traditional knot. The sight of it struck Kenji as odd—a relic of old times, yet clearly worn with purpose. He wondered why anyone would still carry a sword, even in a place as traditional as this.
The man stepped forward as they exited the car, his gaze lingering on each of them in turn, his expression neutral but with a hint of something colder in his eyes. Kenji’s father bowed deeply, and Kenji followed suit, keeping his expression steady as he met the man’s assessing stare.
“Masahiro-san,” Aiko greeted formally, his voice carrying both respect and a subtle distance. “Thank you for welcoming us.”
Masahiro, Aiko’s uncle, inclined his head, though his expression barely softened. “Aiko,” he replied in the same formal tone, his words clipped, precise. “You and your family have come a long way.”
There was a pause, one that seemed deliberate, as Masahiro’s gaze swept over Emily, then each of the children, lingering on Kenji for a fraction longer than necessary. “We appreciate your… gesture,” he continued, his words smooth, carefully chosen. “Although, I must say, we were managing well enough before. But I suppose, given the circumstances, it’s only fitting for you to make an appearance. Perhaps, in time, it will give us all a chance to… rebuild connections.”
Kenji felt a flash of irritation spike in his chest. The tone was formal, polite, but the implication was clear: their presence was neither expected nor truly needed. It was as though Masahiro were treating their arrival as a formality, a display rather than an act of genuine support. The subtle downplaying of their sacrifice—the uprooting of their lives to come here—rankled Kenji, who felt a sudden, unexplainable dislike for the man.
Masahiro turned his attention back to Aiko, offering a faint, polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Your parents, I’m afraid, are too unwell to greet you personally.” The words were coated in a veneer of sympathy, but the undertone felt like a subtle dismissal, a quiet reminder that the elders had chosen not to welcome them directly.
Kenji glanced at his father, watching the way Aiko’s face remained impassive, though he could see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. Still, his father gave a respectful nod. “Of course,” Aiko replied, his tone steady, unyielding. “Please extend my regards to them. We’re here to help however we can.”
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Masahiro gave a slight nod, though Kenji could sense the dismissal in his posture, as if Aiko’s words held little weight. “I’m sure your presence will… be noted,” he said smoothly, his gaze shifting once more to Kenji and his siblings, a quiet, calculating look in his eyes.
Kenji held his gaze, his jaw tightening as he fought back the urge to speak. He knew his father had told him to approach this experience with an open heart, with patience and understanding. But standing here, facing the cold reception of his relatives, the weight of their disapproval hanging in the air, it felt like a task far harder than he’d imagined.
Masahiro gestured for them to follow, his posture formal as he led them up the steps and into the compound. Kenji walked beside his siblings, catching glimpses of more family members watching them from afar, their expressions carefully neutral, yet unmistakably distant. It was clear they were under scrutiny, that their arrival had sparked both curiosity and quiet disdain.
As they entered the compound, Kenji kept his head high, his resolve hardening. He didn’t need Masahiro’s approval or his family’s acceptance, not really. But as he glanced at his father’s composed face, he felt a renewed determination to prove their family wrong about who they truly were.
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The Speaker stood on a raised platform within a vast hall, its marble floors gleaming under ethereal light that shifted between shades of gold, blue, and white. All around him, divine beings prepared for their journeys—packing supplies of magical artifacts, consulting star maps that pulsed with the locations of planets in the Andromeda Galaxy, and assigning their aides to various duties. This wasn’t just any deployment; it was a full-scale mobilization, the integration of entire worlds into the Omnirealm.
The Speaker’s clear voice rang out over the organized commotion, echoing through the hall with a strength that didn’t require him to raise it. He called out assignments, his gaze moving from one divine figure to another, directing them to their respective posts.
“Althea, you will see to the system implementation on Gallonid. Keep an eye on their technological developments; they are on the verge of artificial intelligence.”
“Nimur, your post will be Serephon. It’s a young world, but their connection to nature is strong. Guide them carefully.”
As each being acknowledged their task, the hall began to empty out, teams assembling and preparing for their journeys to Andromeda’s many planets. As the last few names were called, a tall, broad figure approached the Speaker, moving with a calm yet commanding presence.
Tybus, the God of Storms and Steel, was a striking figure. His form was humanoid but with skin like burnished iron, veins of lightning visible beneath its surface, flickering as he moved. His eyes were a piercing shade of storm-gray, shifting subtly with the electricity that ran through him, and his long hair seemed to ripple with an energy of its own. He wore armor made from enchanted metals, its edges lined with soft blue luminescence, and a great hammer hung at his side—a weapon forged in the heart of a dying star.
“Speaker,” Tybus greeted him, his voice low but rumbling, like distant thunder. His gaze was steady as he looked the Speaker over, respect and curiosity mingling in his eyes. “The assignments are nearly complete. But I must ask—where will you go first?”
The Speaker paused, looking up at Tybus with a faint, almost knowing smile. “I’ve thought long on it, Tybus,” he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute, “and I’ve decided my first stop will be a planet called Earth.”
Tybus raised a brow, crossing his arms over his armored chest. “Earth?” he echoed, a note of curiosity in his tone. “A small world, isolated, far from any significant interplanetary influence. They’ve only just begun to reach into the stars.” He considered the Speaker, the flicker of lightning beneath his skin dimming slightly as he seemed to think. “What draws you to such a place?”
The Speaker’s eyes gleamed with a soft, mysterious light. “Earth may seem insignificant, but it holds a unique potential,” he explained. “It’s a world on the brink of awakening, Tybus—a world caught in the balance between wonder and darkness, much like many of our own worlds were, once upon a time. They have not yet been touched by the full reach of the Omnirealm. I want to be there when they first take that step, to help guide them as they enter this vast, unknowable cosmos.”
Tybus nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting over the assembled divine beings in the hall. “A wise choice,” he murmured, his tone now softened by a measure of understanding. “I’ve heard whispers that Earth has a complex spirit… I suppose it only makes sense that it be met with an open hand.”
The Speaker inclined his head in agreement. “Indeed. They are young, but I believe they have potential, perhaps more than even they realize. And given… recent developments,” he added, his voice lowering, “I want to be certain they’re protected. There are forces at play that threaten to tip them into chaos before they’ve had the chance to choose their own path.”
Tybus’s eyes narrowed, a glimmer of understanding in their stormy depths. “The Harbinger,” he said, a hint of bitterness coloring his words. “His Cult has been spreading like a shadow across the galaxies.”
The Speaker’s face grew solemn, and he nodded. “Yes. The Harbinger’s movements are… concerning. Corruption has already started to seep into the cracks of the cosmos. Earth, in its inexperience, is vulnerable. I won’t allow it to fall prey to darkness before it has had a chance to know light.”
Tybus placed a heavy, iron hand on the Speaker’s shoulder, his grip firm but supportive. “Then you go with my blessing, Speaker. If there’s a need for strength,” he added, his tone resolute, “call on me. Storms and steel are my realm, and I have no love for shadows that prey on innocence.”
The Speaker smiled, inclining his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Tybus. I have no doubt I’ll call upon your strength soon enough.”
With a final nod, Tybus released his grip, his form flickering slightly as he prepared to depart. The Speaker turned back to the hall, raising his hands to gather the attention of those who remained.
“Remember, each of you goes not to rule, but to guide,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet authority. “These worlds may be new to the Omnirealm, but they are no less deserving of respect. Let them flourish under your watch. And should you see any trace of the Harbinger’s influence, eradicate it without hesitation. We must be vigilant.”
A final wave of acknowledgment rippled through the assembly, each being preparing to step into their role. As the last of the gods and guardians filed out, the Speaker looked out toward the portal that would take him to Earth, his gaze steady, his mind focused on the path ahead.
“Earth…” he murmured to himself, feeling a faint thrill of anticipation. “Let us see what potential you truly hold.” And with that, he stepped forward, ready to set foot on a world that held mysteries even he was eager to discover.
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Kenji had slipped away from the family quarters, making his way back to the ancestral shrine under cover of dusk. The quiet of the compound, broken only by the rustle of leaves and the distant calls of night birds, felt oddly comforting. It was a rare moment of solitude, a chance to be away from the critical eyes of his relatives, especially Masahiro’s constant watchful gaze.
He made his way down the dimly lit hall of shrines, pausing at the small altars dedicated to his ancestors, warriors and wise men, women of strength and resilience. Their names were etched in stone, their stories a legacy of courage, strength, and honor. Yet, standing in this place, Kenji felt a pang of self-doubt. Could he ever measure up to the ideals they represented? Could he ever belong here in a way that made sense, as his father seemed to?
Finally, he came to a stop before the central stone, engraved with the name Makoto Nakamura. The founder of his family, the one whose legacy had inspired so much pride and tradition. He knelt down, his hands resting lightly on his knees, and closed his eyes, bowing his head. Silently, he began to pray, unsure if anyone was listening but desperate for guidance.
Makoto… If you can hear me, I could really use some help. My family… we don’t belong here, not in the way everyone thinks we should. I don’t know how to keep up with everything expected of us. I don’t know if I’ll ever belong in the way you did. Please… just give me a sign, anything, that this path isn’t just… hopeless.
He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words hang in the air. As he opened his eyes, he noticed something strange—the name Makoto was glowing faintly, a soft purple light that seemed to pulse, as though it were alive. He barely had time to react before a mist began to seep from the stone, hazy and purple, curling around his feet and spreading over the floor. The mist grew thicker, coiling up around him, wrapping him in a dense, impenetrable fog that blocked out the shrine walls and floors, shrouding everything in a dim, otherworldly glow.
A shiver ran down his spine as he felt the mist press closer, as if it were pulling him into some unseen place. The sensation grew stronger, filling his mind and body, until with a sudden jolt, he felt the world tilt.
And then he was somewhere else entirely.
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Far above Earth, the Speaker stood poised at the head of a vast assembly of divine beings and celestial entities. His silver eyes glimmered as he gazed down on the world below, his retinue of gods, guardians, and astral guides surrounding him. The air was thick with anticipation, the power they held waiting to cascade over this newly integrated universe.
Descending with grace and authority, the Speaker came to rest in the sky above Earth, appearing to every living soul simultaneously, as though standing just before them seemingly breaking all laws of reality. A hush fell over the planet as his voice reverberated through the minds of everyone present, soft yet powerful, familiar yet undeniably foreign.
“People of Earth,” he began, his voice both intimate and grand, “I am the Speaker, and I come to bring you news of the Omnirealm. Your world, and others within the Andromeda Galaxy, are to join the greater cosmos, becoming part of the realms beyond your imagining.”
All across the globe, people stared, enraptured by the Speaker’s presence, feeling a strange mix of awe and fear.
“The universe has deemed you ready,” the Speaker continued, “and so today begins a new chapter in your existence. You will be given the chance to unlock your essence, to connect with powers once hidden from you, and to grow in strength and purpose. This journey, however, will not be without its trials.”
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Kenji felt himself falling—or perhaps floating—he couldn’t tell. The darkness around him was filled with flickering windows into strange, otherworldly landscapes: vast deserts under alien skies, cities built on mountains that pierced the clouds, and shadowy forests bathed in eerie, unfamiliar light. And there, at the center of it all, was the katana—a beautiful, ancient sword glowing with a fierce purple energy, whole and perfect, as though untouched by time.
The sword drifted toward him, and without knowing why, Kenji reached out. As his hand wrapped around the hilt, a surge of unimaginable power flooded into him, a torrent of energy so vast that it felt like the void itself was pouring into his veins. The force was overwhelming; it was cold, ancient, and unyielding, like the very essence of the cosmos compressed into a single, searing pulse.
Kenji’s mind reeled, his body trembling as he tried to contain it, but his mortal form—limited and fragile—was not built for such power. He felt his muscles burn, his bones ache, as the energy coursed through him, threatening to tear him apart. It was like trying to hold back a raging ocean with bare hands; no matter how hard he tried, the void’s essence slipped through his grasp, spilling out into the darkness.
The katana trembled in his hand, its glow intensifying as it tried to force more of its power into him, but his body reached its limit. The sword couldn’t hold back the flood. With a blinding flash, it shattered, fragments scattering in every direction. A wave of purple energy exploded outward, sending shards of the blade spiraling off into the distant reaches of the void, where they flickered like falling stars before vanishing into the abyss.
The force of the explosion threw Kenji backward, leaving him disoriented, his mind swimming with echoes of the void. He clutched the hilt of the broken katana, now only as long as a dagger, the jagged edge glinting in the dim light. His breathing was ragged, and he could feel the remnants of that immense power still thrumming within him, faint but present, like a dark ember smoldering in his soul.
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Far above Earth, the Speaker continued his address to humanity, his voice reaching every corner of the world, his words resonating with the gravity of a prophecy.
“This world, your world, is about to undergo changes beyond anything you have known,” he proclaimed, his tone both solemn and resolute. “This power—the system—will guide you, test you, and challenge you. It will offer you the strength to face what lies beyond, and the wisdom to understand your place within the Omnirealm.”
His retinue of gods and celestial beings spread out behind him, their presence radiating auras of power that stirred awe and fear among the watching humans.
“Today,” the Speaker continued, “you will begin your journey. Earth will be integrated into the system, and its people will face trials to prepare you for the worlds beyond. Powers will be unlocked, abilities granted—but remember, this is not without risk. The path ahead will be filled with hardship and choices that will test your very soul.”
The Speaker’s gaze turned solemn, his expression one of calm authority. “To help prepare you, we will begin with a tutorial—a guided experience to introduce you to the ways of the Omnirealm and the powers that lie within. Those who conquer it will emerge ready to harness the potential within and possibly some power already.”
Suddenly, his gaze seemed to soften to a deep sadness. “I know how confusing this is, how nothing I’m saying makes any sense now. We’ve done everything we can to help you along, your situation is unique in that normally the system would choose to intervene earlier to help you integrate. There will be deaths and for that I deeply apologize and weep for the coming sorrows. Know that we will be watching and cheering for you all.”
A golden light brighter than the sun leapt out from his being covering the Earth in a sweeping wave.
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Emerging back through a rift to nowhere Kenji vision cleared showing himself to be in the shrine yet again. Confused he gazed around seeing a portal to that darkness close. He looked down, still clutching the broken blade, his mind spinning as he struggled to process what had just happened. His heart pounded, his body still thrumming with the echoes of the void. He had felt something immense, something ancient, and now he held only a fraction of it in his hand—a small, jagged remnant of the katana that had been whole moments ago.
He barely had time to process his confusion when a light suddenly enveloped him, bright and consuming. He heard a sound—a bell-like chime—and then a voice, calm and unfamiliar, resonated in his mind:
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System Message
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Ding!
Welcome, Kenji Nakamura. You have been chosen as the Void Walker.
The essence of the void flows within you, a rare and powerful force. With it, you wield the darkness that lies beyond reality, capable of touching the very fabric of oblivion. This path is one of great danger and greater responsibility. Walk with purpose, for the void does not grant second chances.
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Essence Unlocked: Void Essence
Void Essence
•Type: Elemental | Unique
•Description: The Void Essence grants the ability to harness energies from beyond the known realms, allowing the Void Walker to channel power that exists outside the boundaries of life, death, and time. This essence is known to corrupt lesser minds and bodies but, in the hands of a Void Walker, becomes a weapon of controlled annihilation.
•Traits:
•Void Affinity: Increases potency of void-based abilities.
•Corruptive Force: Nullifies most physical and magical defenses, allowing the Void Walker’s abilities to ignore standard resistances.
•Unstable Power: Void energy is inherently volatile. Managing it requires precision and mental fortitude. Misuse may lead to physical or psychological strain.
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Ability Unlocked: Void Bolt
Void Bolt
•Type: Offensive
•Description: The Void Walker can conjure a bolt of concentrated void energy. While dealing minimal damage directly, Void Bolt ignores all forms of defense, bypassing shields, armor, and magical barriers. This small attack cannot be stopped, no matter the barrier, making it a deadly tool for wearing down even the most protected foes.
•Attributes:
•Damage: Minimal (scales with Void Essence progression)
•Corruptive Effect: Ignores all defenses; targets struck with Void Bolt experience an intense, lingering pain due to the void’s corruptive touch.
•Cooldown: 5 seconds
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Status Screen
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Name: Kenji Nakamura
Title: Void Walker
Rank: Mortal Foundation (Stage 1 of Cultivation)
Essences:
1.Void Essence (Primary)
•Affinity: 10%
•Control: 3%
•Potential: Incomplete (requires further shards of the shattered Void Katana)
Abilities:
•Void Bolt: Active | Unlocked
•Description: A bolt of void energy that bypasses all defenses.
Physical Stats:
•Vitality: 12
•Strength: 14
•Agility: 10
•Endurance: 13
Mental Stats:
•Willpower: 18
•Focus: 15
•Perception: 12
Special Stats:
•Void Affinity: 10%
•Corruption Resistance: 5% (initial baseline for Void Walkers)
Current Status:
•Health: Stable
•Mental Stability: Slightly Strained
•Void Corruption: Minimal (Under Control)
Warning: The Void Essence has been known to interfere with system messages. Exercise caution when engaging in cultivation or unlocking additional abilities. Balance is key.
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Before he could react, the world around him shifted, reality twisting and pulling him away in a golden light.