Written By: Shuvodip Aich (A.K.A- Penmaestro)

Chapter 50: Devotion

Amidst the unfolding events, elsewhere, an unconscious human floated in a state of ambiguity. At first glance, it was unclear whether he was alive or dead, for he showed no signs of breathing. However, just as the thought of his demise began to take hold, his eyelids stirred.

Slowly, with each passing second, the eyelids quivered, as if engaged in a fierce struggle to open. After what felt like an eternity, the eyes finally parted, revealing their gaze.

Yet, to everyone's astonishment, the view presented was entirely white. Not even a hint of darkness could be discerned within them.

Initially, he appeared oblivious to his surroundings, lost in a state of confusion or perhaps experiencing lingering delusions. However, as time elapsed, a gradual transformation occurred. Slowly but surely, he began to recollect everything, regaining awareness of the dire situation he found himself in.

Had any friends or family members been present, they would have questioned their recognition of him. His eyes, as well as his entire body, possessed an otherworldly whiteness that defied conventional understanding. His form was not entirely solid but rather semi-transparent, allowing those around him to perceive the world beyond his ethereal presence.

Nevertheless, despite this strange and unfamiliar appearance, there was no mistaking his identity. It was none other than Jason, who had been reduced to dust only moments before.

Time itself became an enigma in this place, devoid of any external markers by which one could gauge its passage.

In this peculiar realm where time held no grasp, the concept of quantifying the duration since Jason's transformation into dust proved elusive. The conventional notion of death did not precisely apply, for he remained undeniably alive.

However, to those familiar with the realm of spirits and ethereal entities, a realization would swiftly take hold: Jason had indeed passed away, and he now existed in his soul form.

Though his physical body had perished, his essence persevered in this realm, the boundaries between life and death blurred.

Those acquainted with the supernatural would discern that what stood before them was not merely an apparition or a figment of imagination. It was the essence of Jason's being, stripped of its mortal coil.

In the face of this ethereal manifestation, a profound understanding would settle upon those who possessed knowledge of the spiritual realm, confirming that Jason had traversed the threshold between life and the afterlife, existing now as a soul as to whether he is among the living or with dead.

At this moment both these questions seemed quite difficult to answer as there is nothing around him except darkness.

"Where am I?" Jason's voice resonated with confusion and disbelief. "I should have perished when the core exploded. How can I still be alive? And why are my hands transparent, allowing me to see through them?"

A soothing voice, seemingly emanating from the ethereal realm, responded with wisdom. "Do not burden your thoughts with excessive contemplation. You have already departed from the realm of the living.

Now, find solace and let go of the events that unfolded in your past life. Instead, focus on extracting valuable lessons from those experiences and applying them to shape your future."

Upon hearing these words, Jason's approval manifested through a subtle nod. If he had indeed traversed the threshold of death, then the need to dwell on the actions and consequences of his previous existence seemed futile.

After all, in this ethereal realm, there appeared to be no immediate threat of retaliation or vengeance from those he might have wronged.

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Even if someone were to come seeking revenge, Jason mused, what could they possibly do to him? He had already experienced the ultimate fate of death. What more could they inflict upon him that was worse than what he had already endured?

With a newfound sense of acceptance, Jason embraced the notion that dwelling on his past was unnecessary.

He would focus on gleaning wisdom from his life's journey, unfettered by the fear of retribution or consequences that lay beyond the realm of the living.

Suddenly, a realization dawned upon Jason. Only moments ago, he had found himself in solitude, yet he had distinctly heard a voice speaking to him.

What puzzled him even more was the fact that the voice seemed to be transmitted directly into his mind, rather than being spoken aloud.

As Jason surveyed his surroundings, he found himself enveloped in solitude. There was no sign of anyone else in this ethereal realm.

Doubt crept into his mind, questioning whether the voice he had heard was merely a figment of his imagination or, perhaps, his own inner thoughts manifesting as a response to the perplexing situation he found himself in.

The lack of clarity regarding his current circumstances only intensified his uncertainty. With no external guidance or presence to provide answers, Jason began to question the very nature of his perception.

Could it be that he was engaged in a solitary conversation with himself? The ambiguous nature of his existence further confounded him, leaving him with a scant understanding of the realm in which he now resided.

He contemplated the implications of this revelation. Could a soul possess the ability to think, to ponder? Could it retain the form and essence of its previous human existence? In this ethereal realm, where the boundaries of existence blurred, he lacked certainty regarding his own nature.

Was he truly a soul? And if so, how did he still possess the ability to perceive and experience emotions?

These questions swirled within Jason's mind, forming a tangled web of uncertainty. As he grappled with the enigmatic nature of his current existence, he yearned for answers, searching for a deeper understanding of his newfound state as it seems like he still carries his gift along with him.

His eagerness to unravel the enigmatic grew, as he yearned to acquire knowledge that would satiate his insatiable curiosity. Additionally, he possessed a deep desire to comprehend the unfamiliar, for he found himself disliking any situation where he lacked even the slightest inkling of understanding.

"Hmmm, it seems like you are not that good, qualified and worthy enough to see me but you can understand my language even that didn't make you even a little bit worthy, still it choose you so it must have seen something that even I can't see"

"What form I choose so that you can see me, hmmm this one will be good enough now turn around"

As the words echoed once again and their meaning sank in, he became certain that he himself was not the speaker.

He found himself in an unfamiliar place, devoid of any recognizable landmarks or references. Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice pierced the silence, sending shivers down his spine.

Yet, paradoxically, there was a strange sense of familiarity in that voice, reminiscent of the sensation he experienced when anticipating aid during his battles.

Recalling Rotarr's words, he couldn't shake off the memory of being promised something unimaginable if he were to successfully accomplish his mission. However, he remained unsure of whether he had indeed achieved that feat.

However, driven by an insatiable desire for knowledge and consumed by curiosity, he mustered the courage to turn around, eager to discover the source of the voice and uncover the secrets of this enigmatic place.

As he turned around, he was met with an astonishing sight—an individual seated atop a towering boulder.

This enigmatic figure possessed four arms that appeared to effortlessly float in the void, surpassing a height of 10 meters, rendering the term "tall" utterly inadequate.

The person's skin, an uncommon cream colour, emitted a gentle radiance that bestowed his complexion with a subtle bluish cream hue.

Adorned in a singular garment that extended from his waist to his knees, his long hair, matching the hue of their skin, partially concealed one eye, leaving the other fixed upon Jason.

His eyes, adorned with golden irises and black pupils, captivated his gaze.

Perched beside this mysterious being was an owl, being lovingly caressed by one of his four hands.

The other two hands held objects that bore resemblance to a fusion of a sword and a staff. Apart from his presence, the surroundings remained devoid of any other life.

The figure emanated a singular luminosity that pierced through the darkness of the place.

The moment Jason's gaze connected with this person, an overwhelming sense of relief enveloped him.

It felt as though he had finally unearthed something he had lost—an innate connection to the individual before him.

A profound satisfaction resonated through his entire being. Unbeknownst to him, his knees began to bend, not out of fear, but out of immense respect.

Tears welled up in his eyes, seemingly drawn forth by an unseen force, as a smile of devotion and reverence graced his face.

However, before his knees could touch the ground, the person abruptly materialized in front of him.

With two hands, he gently lifted him, while the other two hands tenderly wiped away the tears cascading down his cheeks, erasing any traces of sorrow with utmost tenderness.

"Are you a god?" Jason blurted out, unable to contain his curiosity, his words escaping before any other conversation could unfold.

Upon hearing Jason's question, a mesmerizing smile blossomed upon the enigmatic individual's face, radiating warmth and understanding.

"No, my dear child," they responded with a gentle and reassuring tone. "I am but a humble devotee, a follower of the son of cosmos."

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