Artham whirled around, his heart racing as his eyes scanned the vast grassland, bathed in the soft, silvery glow of the starlit sky. The voice had come from nowhere, or perhaps everywhere—it echoed in his mind, surrounding him as if the very air itself was alive.

“Welcome, Artham,” the voice echoed again, warm and laced with a touch of amusement. “I’m pleased you arrived here.”

Despite the soothing tone, the voice unsettled him. He saw no one—no figure, no shadow. The origin of the voice was a mystery. It was as if the voice was both everywhere and nowhere at once.

Artham swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm despite the strange feeling creeping over him. Focus, he thought. Don’t get lost in the unknown.

“What do you mean by ‘welcome’? Where am I?” Artham demanded, his voice slightly shaky, bouncing off the open expanse of the field. His eyes darted across the landscape, searching for something, anything, that would make sense of this bizarre situation.

“You have left your old world behind,” the voice replied, its cryptic tone almost playful. “You now find yourself in a new realm. A realm of wonders and mysteries.”

The words sank into him, making his pulse quicken. Artham’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of awe and curiosity.

“A realm of wonders and mysteries?” he repeated, his voice trembling with an unspoken excitement. “What does that even mean?”

“This realm,” the voice explained with a slow, deliberate pace, “is a treasure trove of experiences. You will explore vast multiverses, meet creatures and races beyond your understanding, master arts and skills unique to each world, and uncover secrets and treasures you’ve never dreamed of. The possibilities are endless.”

Artham’s heart began to pound with anticipation, a surge of excitement flooding his veins. This was it—this was the escape he had yearned for. The adventure, the thrill, the new life he had been promised.

“Then tell me!” Artham’s voice grew urgent, pleading. “Where do I begin? Where can I go?”

There was a pause—a heavy silence that hung in the air before the voice responded again, slower, more deliberate. “Patience, Artham. All will be revealed in due time. But first, a test.”

“A test?” Artham frowned, feeling a knot of frustration twist in his gut. “What kind of test?”

The voice grew soft, almost conspiratorial. “A riddle—one meant only for you.”

A riddle? Of course, there had to be a challenge. Artham clenched his fists, his brow furrowing as he braced himself for whatever lay ahead.

“Fine. What’s the riddle?”

The voice delivered it smoothly, almost teasingly: “What is something you have to realize before you realize what you realized?”

Artham blinked. What? He stared into the darkness, the question swirling in his mind. What kind of nonsense is that?

“Just answer to the best of your ability,” the voice coaxed, patient and calm.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of the words. Something you have to realize before you realize what you realized? What could it be? He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly.

“Vision,” he said, though his voice lacked certainty.

“Incorrect,” the voice replied smoothly. “You have two attempts left. Here’s a hint: the answer is a word with dual meanings. One relates to sight, the other to understanding.”

Artham groaned, rubbing his forehead in frustration. ‘Vision can mean both sight and understanding, he thought, so why wasn’t that right?’

Before he could argue, the stars above him flickered, and then... darkness. The soft glow that had once illuminated the grassland vanished, leaving him in complete blackness. Though the stars still twinkled in the sky, their light no longer reached the ground.

“Indeed,” the voice continued, unfazed by the sudden shift. “But that was not the correct answer for the riddle meant for you.”

The darkness pressed in around Artham, suffocating in its silence. His mind raced, searching for any clue, any connection that would lead him to the answer.

Light, he thought suddenly, as the memory of the stars’ fading light struck him. Light can be both something you see—like the sun or a lamp—and something you understand, like a moment of realization.

“Could it be ‘light’?” Artham asked, a flicker of hope in his voice. “It fits both meanings.”

There was a pause—a beat of silence that stretched uncomfortably long.

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“That was an insightful guess,” the voice responded, almost regretfully. “But incorrect. You have one attempt left.”

Frustration gnawed at Artham’s insides. He glanced down at his body, only to find that it had vanished, blending into the darkness as if he were nothing more than a shadow.

“When did I...?” His voice trailed off, confusion weighing heavy in his words.

“Do not be afraid,” the voice soothed. “Your task is to move forward and seek your answer.”

“But how?” Artham asked, panic rising in his throat. “Where do I go? There’s no light, no path, just darkness and the stars.”

“There is no set path, Artham. Trust your instincts. Calm your mind. Let your heart guide you. Only then will you find your answer.”

The cryptic nature of the voice grated against him, but he forced himself to breathe, to steady the growing unease within him. His heart hammered in his chest, but something deeper within him—the instinct to survive, to think clearly in the face of chaos—pushed him to focus.

He stood in the darkness, alone, but he had faced the unknown before. He could handle this.

Artham inhaled deeply, the crisp scent of dew-laden grass filling his lungs as his eyes wandered across the celestial meadow. The air shimmered faintly, as though the stars themselves breathed with him, their radiant glow illuminating the soft, ethereal flora. Each blade of grass glistened under the night sky, a mirror to the heavens. For a moment, Artham stood motionless, absorbing the serene beauty of this otherworldly place. He felt small, yet strangely connected to the vast expanse that stretched before him, where time and space seemed to blur.

Then, without warning, a radiant white line descended from the heavens, slicing through the meadow with precision, its brilliance contrasting against the dark sky. It cut a path straight ahead, its light pulsating softly as if alive.

"No predetermined path, huh?" Artham whispered, a wry smile playing on his lips as he studied the glowing trail. His voice seemed to disappear into the vast emptiness around him, swallowed by the quiet.

He stood still for another beat, letting the anticipation settle before taking his first step. His heart thudded in his chest, matching the rhythm of the silent world around him. The soft rustle of grass beneath his boots and the crisp night air on his skin kept him tethered to the present, yet the landscape felt unreal, like a dream he had wandered into by mistake.

With every step, the glowing line stretched farther, guiding him into the unknown. The starlit grass swayed gently, almost in greeting, as the wind whispered across the expanse. Each gust felt like a soft exhale, adding to the delicate tension in the air.

The silence was profound. No creatures stirred, no distant voices called—just the hum of his own breath and the occasional flutter of wind. A wave of isolation swept over him, tightening his chest. His senses were on edge, eyes scanning the distance, alert for any movement, any sign of life. Yet, there was nothing. The land remained vast, untouched, and eerily still.

"Where is everyone? Anything?" he murmured, the words more for himself than for any answer he expected.

The glow beneath his feet remained his only companion, and as he continued forward, the stars above felt closer—like silent watchers bearing witness to his solitary journey. He had never felt so isolated, yet a quiet thrill coursed through him. It was as if the land held its breath, waiting for something to happen.

And then, everything shifted.

The sky, with all its celestial beauty, collapsed. The stars winked out, leaving behind an infinite stretch of nothingness. A chilling wave of darkness surged from every direction, swallowing the world whole. Artham's breath hitched, his senses overwhelmed by the sudden void. His vision plunged into blackness, his body floating in the oppressive silence.

He was suspended in emptiness—adrift, isolated, alone.

How long had he been in this state? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time had no meaning in the void. His mind scrambled for clarity, but all he could focus on was the sound of his own heartbeat, steady and relentless, keeping him tethered to the life he was not even sure he still possessed.

The silence pressed in, deafening in its weight. Is this it?

His thoughts swirled, threatening to consume him in the vast emptiness. And then—like a breath of fresh air in a stifling room—he saw it. A spark. Faint at first, a small pinprick of light in the overwhelming darkness. His heart surged.

There… there it is.

The light grew, pulsing with a slow, deliberate rhythm, like a heartbeat, beckoning him forward. It was a beacon—no, more than that. It felt alive, pulling him with a magnetic force, offering him an escape from the suffocating nothingness.

He moved toward it, though his body felt sluggish, like wading through thick mud. The light brightened with every step, and as he neared, its warmth enveloped him. It wasn’t just a physical light—it was something deeper, something that resonated with the core of his being.

And then he understood. The light wasn’t external. It was a reflection of himself—of his desires, his fears, his very essence. It revealed a paradox: he was both light and shadow, belonging to both realms yet standing apart.

As he reached for the light, a sudden tearing sound shattered the silence. A rift split the void, and from within it burst an explosion of colors—blues, reds, golds—like a rainbow piercing through a storm. The colors coalesced, spinning and swirling, forming shapes, stars, galaxies, and worlds. Creation unfolded before his eyes, life springing from the void, expanding in all directions.

Time became fluid, slipping through his fingers as he watched civilizations rise and fall, magic and technology intertwining, societies blossoming and crumbling. His perception shifted, allowing him to see the infinite complexities of existence, as if the universe itself was a tapestry, each thread vibrating with the pulse of life.

Yet, despite the breathtaking spectacle, a hollow emptiness filled his chest. He had seen this before—creation, destruction, the endless cycle. The thrill of it had long since faded.

Was there nothing new? Nothing to ignite his soul?

Artham’s mind drifted, lost in the realization that perhaps nothing could fill this void within him. No amount of beauty or wonder could quench the eternal thirst gnawing at his core.

A voice cut through his thoughts—deep, resonant, as if it had been waiting for this moment.

"Now, do you know the answer?"

Artham blinked, the celestial landscape melting away as he found himself once again standing in the dark meadow. The stars twinkled overhead, the grass brushing softly against his legs, but something had changed within him. Clarity surged through him like a river.

"Now, do you know the answer?" the voice inquired.

His eyes fluttered open, and he found himself back in the dark grassland, but with newfound clarity.

"The answer is 'realize'," he declared. "One interpretation is something visible, like reality or truth. The other is something comprehensible, like realization or awareness."

"Excellent," the voice responded. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am what you humans refer to as a 'God'. You are currently at a multidimensional nexus, a junction of different realities."