Colors swirled around me, a tornado of sensation. I was suspended in starlit darkness. A voice, no longer taunting, echoed.

"Welcome, John, to the crossroads of possibilities."

The voice wrapped around me, coming from all directions. Calm replaced my apprehension.

"Where am I?" I whispered against the cosmic canvas.

"In the realm between time, on the edge of a new path," the voice replied gently. "You've taken your first step, and the path of legends awaits."

Scenes unfolded—my mundane life, awkward social encounters, self-justification.

Then, like wind through a dusty attic, the voice delved into memories, revealing laughter and dreams I'd hidden. Regret and missed opportunities surged.

"Do you see?" the voice murmured. "The choices that define you, the dreams you've buried."

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Tears welled up, regret and realization mixing. "What now?" I asked, voice trembling.

"The journey ahead weaves from these threads," the voice replied. "To become a legend is moulding your past for a future you desire."

I heard laughter, familiar and cruel. I froze, panic creeped in.

Another voice, less cruel but amused, "Entertainment?"

"Well, well," a third voice sneered. "A hero, how original."

"Why?" I mumbled.

Second voice chimed in, somewhat chastising the first but laced with a similar mirth, "Hold back, don't crush his spirit entirely."

"We have here yet another soul," the first voice resumed, a sneer embedded within its tone. "Another naive individual who fancies himself a saviour, a hero of the grand tale. Haven't you learned, mortal? Life is no fairy-tale. It is cruel, unrelenting, and it has never been on your side."

Fear slithered through my veins, heart racing as I tried to make sense of the situation. "What's happening?" I stammered, voice trembling with unease. "This must be a nightmare."

"Oh, but it's the same story every time. You all parade toward the abyss, seeking rewards and accolades, until the moment life snatches away your fantasy. Look at yourself. Do you truly believe your mundane existence is worth a damn? Why would you be chosen?"

“You see, John, you've played your role perfectly. Crafted yourself into irrelevance. A masterpiece of insignificance." A wistful, sorrowful laugh resonated; a crack evident in its tone.