Self awareness returned to the entity with a familiarity that was both surprised and weary; weary because of the sense, ingrained though without a reference in memory, that it was supposed to be beyond this burden, that its rest had been disturbed, and surprised because the awareness was only of itself. No light, no sound, no sensation of body or anything outside it interposed itself into the entity's consciousness, and the surprise began to develop into terror at the fear of total isolation. That movement of thought was the only thing providing any sense of time. Before that movement could finish, however, words, or rather the feeling and intent which words had once carried, imprinted themselves upon the entity with a shock of otherness.
"Do not be afraid. I have called you back, and you will not suffer this confusion for long before my purpose for you is fulfilled."
"Who are we?" The response arose from the entity unbidden. Choice did not exist in this state.
"Not we. I am myself, and I have called you for my purpose. You rather than another, and only in that sense are you 'you'", because this state is not in your nature as a limited thing."
Though still untethered to any concrete memory, understanding flowed into the entity like a colored liquid taking and revealing the shape of a clear vessel. "I am the remains of a person. What is left of a process that has ended?"
A feeling of satisfaction beyond denotation accompanied the voice. "Yes, and my choice was correct, it would seem. Another would have resisted more. 'You' are special to my purpose for this reason."
"I do not know what your purpose is."
"I want you to be a catalyst for change. All of this is to make you aware of that before I put you in place, to condition you. Your nature requires boundaries for understanding, however, so I will separate us further. Then we may speak more clearly."
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Sensation suddenly flooded into the entity's consciousness. The feeling was hazy, indistinct, but solid enough; a space stretched limitlessly, and its body, indistinct but its own, stood before another being. This being was not indistinct, though it gave the impression of a mask or facade to something far less comprehensible. It was the figure of a woman, a concept that returned to the entity with the sight of her. She wore a black, flowing garment that seemed more a breach in the surrounding space than a surface of its own, faint points of light visible on or in it like the night sky...which was another sense-memory? She was dark, dark entirely; skin, hair, eyes, all shades of night colors distinct only enough to show expression.
"Nox?" The name arose in the entity's mind with the new distance.
She laughed, a gentle, deep sound. "Goddess of the night, mother of Death and Sleep, is it? You were close with the shared dreams and visions of your kind. That is well. You may call me that."
"Who am I?"
"The answer you desire is dead with the life that produced it. Your identity, your name, your memories, those have fallen apart and moldered with the body that created them. You are a shape, a web of connection between concept and volition that I have chosen to place in a newly created life."
"I will be reborn?"
"Yes, and though you will not remember this, with a true body you may recall more of your old life than now. Whether you do or not, I will leave you with this command imprinted deeply inside you: do as you will. You must be your own god and guide in the life to come, or else my choice of you will come to nothing. I am sending you as an agent of change, of chaos and renewal, of my own fierce and merciless love."
The entity felt surprise once more. "Is that all?"
The goddess smiled. "That is all. You will understand in time. For now, sleep again. A new beginning will come soon."
Before the entity could respond again, the vision of the goddess and the space about her faded again into self-contained isolation, and then into the gentle embrace of oblivion, for an eternity, or a moment.