Artham’s breath hitched, the words reverberating in his mind. A God? His pulse quickened, his voice trembling as he stammered, “A God?” The weight of the revelation crashed into him, splintering his thoughts like shattered glass. A sharp pang pierced his skull as he struggled to process the absurdity of it all. The world around him seemed to blur and spin, his vision hazy as he clutched his head, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Am I dead? The question echoed in his mind, panic threading through his veins. Is this what happens when you die? Heaven? Hell?*

The voice returned, calm yet commanding, as though it had anticipated his panic. “No, you are not dead,” it answered, the words cutting through the chaos in his mind. “And you are not in heaven or hell. Only a part of your soul has been taken—specifically, the part that carried the dullness, the weight of your previous existence.”

The explanation struck Artham like a physical blow, leaving him reeling. His thoughts churned in confusion and disbelief, anger rising like bile in his throat. A part of my soul? His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white with tension. What kind of madness is this?

His heart hammered in his chest as he fought to steady his spiraling emotions. The notion of his soul being split—torn apart like pages from a book—was too surreal to grasp. Yet, buried deep beneath the storm of confusion, a faint memory stirred. He had chosen this, hadn’t he? Some part of him had known, deep down, that this moment was inevitable.

Artham inhaled deeply, forcing himself to focus. "What about the other half?" he asked, his voice tight with desperation. "What happens to the part of my soul that remains on Earth?" The idea of his life continuing without him—of a version of himself going on, oblivious to this strange new reality—sent a shiver crawling up his spine.

A pause lingered in the air, heavy with meaning, before the voice answered. “Do not be afraid,” it soothed, though its tone was unyielding. “The part of your soul left on Earth will continue your life as if nothing has changed. It will live your ordinary existence, unaware of what has transpired here. Your memories, your identity, all will remain intact. It’s a parallel existence—undisturbed by this new reality.”

Artham frowned, his brows knitting together as the voice’s matter-of-fact tone did little to quell his unease. Parallel existence? Two lives at once? The logic felt elusive, slippery in his grasp, as though he were trying to hold water. His instinct was to question everything, but some deeper part of him knew that his old life—the one he had grown so tired of—was now beyond his reach.

He exhaled slowly, pushing his apprehension aside. His ever-present curiosity, the driving force behind his genius, began to stir again, igniting a spark within him. “What is this place?” he asked, his tone shifting from accusatory to intrigued. “You called it a ‘cross-dimensional crossroads’… what does that mean?” The words tasted foreign on his tongue, but the concept tugged at his mind, hinting at something vast, something unknown.

The voice responded with an air of authority, each word precise. “A cross-dimensional crossroads is a rare phenomenon. It is a nexus where different dimensions converge, where the boundaries between realities blur. Only a select few have access to this place—and you are one of them. Your soul has been divided because you yearned for something more. The part of you burdened by dissatisfaction, by the monotony of your old life, remains on Earth. What remains here is the part of you that seeks adventure, that craves something beyond the ordinary. This is your chance to begin anew.”

Artham’s heart quickened, though this time, it wasn’t fear that gripped him—it was something else. A glimmer of hope sparked in his chest, faint but growing. The weight of the mundane, the suffocating dullness that had clung to him for so long—could he finally leave it behind? Could he start over, free from the chains that had bound him to his old life?

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “So I get to choose my path?” he asked, his voice rising with a sense of exhilaration. “A world where I can live on my terms?”

The voice softened, though its seriousness remained. “Yes. But you must listen closely. The choices you make here are critical. There are rules—guidelines you must follow. Pay attention to what I say, and do not interrupt until I have finished. This is crucial for your understanding.”

Artham’s grin faltered, the weight of the voice’s words sinking in. He straightened, squaring his shoulders, his pulse steadying as the gravity of the situation settled over him. “I’m listening,” he said, his voice quieter, more controlled.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

A thick silence followed, heavy with anticipation, before the voice continued. “Good. This crossroads is not merely a place—it is a nexus, a convergence of all possible realities. Here, you are unbound by the constraints of a single life. You have the freedom to explore, to grow, to become something greater than you ever imagined. But with that freedom comes responsibility. The choices you make here will ripple across dimensions. Every decision, every action, will shape not only your future but the futures of countless worlds.”

Artham’s pulse raced once more as the enormity of the voice’s words hit him like a tidal wave. Infinite worlds. Infinite possibilities. But also, infinite consequences. He clenched his fists at his sides, a surge of both fear and exhilaration coursing through him. This was no game. The stakes were real. And the consequences of failure… they were vast.

“You will face trials,” the voice pressed on, its tone unyielding. “Challenges that will test your resolve, your wisdom, your strength. And you will not face them alone. There are others—beings, forces—who will seek to influence you, to sway your decisions for their own purposes. Be wary of them. Trust your instincts, but be prepared to question everything.”

Artham’s hands tightened into fists as the weight of the voice’s warning settled over him. The reality of this place—the power, the danger—pressed down on him, but so did the allure of it. Infinite worlds. Infinite choices. He could leave behind the monotony that had crushed his spirit for so long. He could carve his own path, embrace a destiny greater than the one he’d been shackled to.

But then the voice returned, cutting through the silence with cold, calculated precision. “You are here because of your desire, your wish,” it said, its tone shifting to something more deliberate. “This is not a separate reality but a transitional space—a bridge between dimensions. You must choose your path wisely. Your decisions will ripple across realities.”

Awe washed over Artham like a wave, his eyes widening as he looked to the swirl of galaxies above. Could this really be it? Could he finally escape the dull ache of his previous life? His heart pounded with renewed hope as his gaze swept over the vastness of the universe before him.

Maybe… maybe this is what I’ve been missing.

Before he could sink further into those thoughts, the voice returned, cutting through his reverie. “Indeed,” it said, amusement lacing its tone, as though it had been reading his thoughts all along.

Artham blinked, startled. The voice seemed to know his every inner monologue, yet its presence didn’t feel invasive. Instead, it was guiding him—pushing him toward a revelation that he couldn’t yet fully comprehend. He remained silent, knowing that this conversation was far from over.

“I intend to transport you to another world,” the voice continued, its tone matter-of-fact, as if discussing something as simple as the weather. “A realm where individuals like you—those tired of the mundane—are welcomed. But know this: every boon has its price. Are you curious to know what you must pay for the freedom you seek?”

Artham’s heart skipped a beat, the faint smile on his lips growing as curiosity sparked like fire inside him. A price? Of course, there was a price. But what could be worth more than the chance to leave behind the dull ache of his former life?

"Absolutely," Artham replied, his voice steady, though his pulse raced beneath the calm exterior he struggled to maintain. "I'm all ears."

The silence that followed was thick, oppressive, as though the very universe was holding its breath, waiting for what came next. Each second stretched, tension coiling tighter in his chest as the weight of the moment pressed down on him. His grip tightened on his phone, knuckles white, though he barely noticed.

When the voice finally spoke, it was as if the world itself had shifted, the air around him warping with the weight of the words.

“The price is your soul.”

Artham’s breath hitched. My soul? The words clung to him like a death sentence, each syllable digging in deeper. His thoughts scrambled, his mind whirling in shock. His soul—the very core of who he was. Was that what this entity demanded for his freedom?

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last. The cold tendrils of fear crept into his mind. What did it even mean to lose his soul? Would he disappear? Would he be bound to this strange force forever? The questions swirled, a storm of panic rising within him, but one thought burned brighter than the rest.

Which part of my soul?

His voice trembled as he forced the question out. "Which part of my soul?" he asked, the words barely above a whisper. "The one that’s here, or the one still on Earth, like you said?"

The voice returned, colder now, more final. “Both.”

The ground seemed to tilt beneath Artham’s feet, the world around him spinning as the weight of that single word crashed over him. Both. His entire being—everything he was and ever would be—was on the line.

A low buzz filled the air, the faint hum of something vast, something alive, looming just beyond his senses. He swallowed hard, trying to find his footing, but the enormity of it was suffocating.

And then, the voice spoke again, a dark, whispered promise.

“Now... make your choice.”

The world went still.

Artham froze, the gravity of that moment pulling him under. His pulse raced, a single question echoing in the silence, pounding in his skull with terrifying clarity.

What have I done?