The void stretched endlessly in all directions, a barren expanse that rendered time and distance irrelevant. Silence reigned supreme, interrupted only by a faint, omnipresent hum, the sound of countless souls drifting with unwavering purpose. Glimmers of faint white light shone through the darkness, like fireflies caught in an eternal, starless night. Their dim glow offered the only respite from the crushing abyss.

A deity was watching.

Prayer or faith did not create this deity, but a much older entity. It was an entity unaffected by worship, existing beyond mortal comprehension. Its shape was amorphous, a constantly shifting haze that alternated between substance and nothingness. Wherever its gaze fell, the void quivered, as if reeling from an examination too intense to bear.

"Still they come," it murmured, a silent echo reverberating through the air. "There's always more. Always the same."

The orbs drifted by, each carrying faint, fading echoes of a life lived. Memories clung to them, fragile and fleeting, fading further away with each passing moment. The deity extended its mind and made contact with a single soul. The contact rippled through the orb, like a stone disturbing the surface of a peaceful pond.

Six hours and twenty-five minutes.

"Ah," the deity remarked. "Fresh. Poor thing. You'll be moving along soon enough."

After releasing the soul, it moved on to the next one. Numbers arose unexpectedly in its awareness: four minutes, nine hours, and a single day. Most were luminous and ephemeral, destined to leave this place quickly, ready for whatever lay beyond.

But not all.

The tarnished souls lingered deeper into the void, where the light faded and the air became heavier. The weight of their sins reduced their once-bright glow to a faint shimmer. They were the unforgiven, destined for the abyss because their actions were too heinous to forgive. For them, the void was a prison, a timeless expanse in which their essence unravelled, devoured by the infinite darkness.

The deity spoke with a tone of sardonic amusement, "Terrible things." "What did you do?" Murderers are traitors who destroy people's lives. And now you are here. Waiting for what? Redemption? Forgiveness?"

It drew closer to a dim orb, the glow barely visible. A faint flicker of light struggled against the looming darkness. When the deity touched it, fragmented memories emerged in jagged bursts: shouting men, the slash of a blade, blood pooling on a cold stone.

"Ah."

The deity let the soul drift deeper into the void. Its light faded, flickering like a dying ember. The darkness would take it soon enough. Time had no effect here, but the deity recognised the signs. When a soul's light completely faded, it vanished, leaving no sound or spectacle in its wake.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Nevertheless, some persisted.

"The stubborn ones," the deity murmured, a hint of intrigue in its voice. "Those who refuse to let go."

Its gaze fell on a peculiar soul hidden within the void's shadowy depths. Unlike the others, this one was impenetrable and black as obsidian. It no longer glowed with faint signs of life. Instead, it was a relic from the distant past, hardened and immutable.

As the deity approached, his form solidified. "And what are you?"

The soul remained motionless, but the deity could feel the tempest raging within. Fractures spiderwebbed beneath its hardened surface, delicate but ominous. Nonetheless, it persevered, resisting the suffocating eternity.

The deity touch was tentative, brief, but powerful. Rage. Sorrow. Defiance. A steadfast refusal to surrender. A whisper pierces the soul's very fabric.

Not then. Not now. Not ever. I must.

The deity withdrew, its curiosity aroused. "How long have you been here, I wonder?"

It focused and probed the soul further. The numbers that emerged were staggering and beyond comprehension. Centuries? Millennia? Most souls fell apart within days, their will crushed by guilt and despair. However, this individual persisted, holding onto the boundaries of rationality.

"Fascinating. You should not exist, but here you are. What do you cling to?

The deity 'leaned' in, delving into the fractures. Memories came flooding back: a blood-soaked battlefield, broken bodies strewn across the ground, and a lone figure standing amidst the carnage. The disjointed images flickered and faded, but a truth emerged. Violence created this soul, kings manipulated it, and kin betrayed it. Under the ruins, however, was a yearning—a desperate, unyielding desire for another chance.

"Willpower? Madness? "Maybe both."

The soul quivered under its scrutiny, the cracks growing wider. A strange sensation rippled through the deity, elusive and unsettling. Mercy? Pity? No, those were mortal ideas, unworthy of something as timeless as itself. Despite that...

It touched the soul again, but this time it lingered. The soul's surface trembled, indicating an opportunity. The deity drew back, watching as the fractures began to heal ever so slightly.

"Perhaps you deserve more," it mused. "Or perhaps you'll shatter, as all things must."

The deity disappeared into the void, but the thought lingered. It drifted aimlessly, looking for the next anomaly, until something made it stop.

Far behind, the void trembled. A faint yet undeniable vibration suddenly shook the void. The deity returned its attention, watching as a sharp glow emerged, in contrast to the soft glow of the drifting souls. It was as if a fissure had opened, spilling light from another dimension.

The charred soul quivered, its connection with the light faint but undeniable. The deity returned its gaze to the soul, observing how the fractures widened before healing under the light's touch. For the first time in aeons, a faint shimmer appeared on its surface, a spark of life igniting in the darkness.

"You kept trying," the deity whispered. "And now someone recognises your persistence. Perhaps your wishes will come true."

A mysterious force drew the soul to the rift. The deity provided a final touch, guiding it forward. With a soft pulse, the soul vanished into the light, leaving the rift behind.

The deity lingered, staring at the fading light. When the void regained its stillness, it became motionless and lost in thought. Something had changed. It felt like a shift.

After an eternity, it stirred and resumed its journey, gliding through the infinite darkness in search of the next mystery. Even the deity, it appeared, required a reason to exist.

The soul faded into the light with a gentle pulse, closing the rift behind it. The deity stood motionless, watching the light fade until it vanished entirely. When the silence returned, the deity remained motionless and deep in thought. It sensed something had changed. After what seemed like an eternity, it moved again, drifting through the vast darkness, ready to solve the next mystery. Even a deity, it seemed, sought entertainment for its perceived boredom.