I see a spot of light the size of a pin.

The light is constant and piercing, I find myself not being able to tear my gaze away. I try to move, to head towards it, but my limbs are stiff and unwilling. I feel as if I’m bogged down by an unseen weight. After several futile attempts, each ending in my feet sliding back to their original position, I give up.

I should feel upset. Frustrated. I should feel anything but relieved.

I shake my head. Right, it’s not as if I want to head towards that light in the first place.

I look down at my arms, feel them tremble like blades of grass gently tussled by wind. Somehow, there’s a feeling that runs deep in my bones telling me not to approach.

I glance towards the spot of blinding light once more. An unfathomable chill emanates from it, sending a chill up my back.

I decide on listening to my gut. I sit down cross legged and get comfortable.

I don’t know where I am, don’t know what I should be doing. Despite that, I’m not afraid. The lack of objects don’t faze me. The empty space I currently reside in feels familiar, like a worn shoe or a pile of freshly laundered clothes.

Seated comfortably, I wait. For what exactly, I’m unsure. It just seems right to do so. I wait. And wait some more. As expected, I quickly find myself growing bored. There’s nothing to occupy my hands or mind, and the absolute stillness begins to grate on me.

I need at least something to concentrate on, but everything around me stretches into vast nothingness. There’s nothing to do or see. I want someone to talk to.

Oh!

That’s right. I’m waiting for someone.

Filled with sudden enthusiasm, I bob my head excitedly as I’m struck with a brilliant idea. Maybe, instead of waiting, I should be the one to find her instead.

But how would I do it? What could I use to get into contact with her?

Something radiant bleeds into existence in front of me. I flinch at the sudden burst of crimson light. This tear in space bleeds a soft, red colour, like crushed rose petals. The red trickles into my open palms, growing from the size of a flea to that of a clenched fist.

I am impressed. But what is this?

Logic dictates I should be afraid of something appearing out of thin air, but it doesn’t etch fear into me as that white light in the distance. In fact, I feel the opposite. I welcome it. I bring my hands together, watching in anticipation as the crimson colour hovers in my cupped palms.

When I raise my arms to bring my hands to eye level, it obediently follows. I hold it up to eye level and roll it back and forth in my hands. The crimson ball of light is weightless. I shift it around and toss it from hand to hand. I throw it up, and it floats quietly for a span of a second, before it gently returns down to my makeshift hand cradle.

Though weightless and transient like mist, it is warm to the touch. I can feel a faint pulse from it, an irregular staccato rhythm. A stable heartbeat in a world of silence.

I lift it towards my mouth and say, “Hello? Can anyone hear me?”

I expect to hear crumbling static, or the faint buzz of a line searching for a connection. But it produces nothing but silence. Just as I’m about call out again, it begins to thump rapidly. I nearly thrust it out of my hands in surprise. My fingers curl around it as the crimson grows sharper, dyeing it bright cherry red.

“-ei?”

Success. I think I hear something!

“Hey,” I call out tentatively. “I’m looking for someone…?”

“Mei. It’s you. How in the world are you communicating with me?” A voice spills out from the crimson ball. “You shouldn’t be able to tap into the energy I embedded in you. Did you learn how to search your spiritual energy, somehow? I can’t think of how you’d have discovered the divine energy, otherwise.”

“Um, sorry, but I don’t know what you’re going on about.” The gears in my head spin rapidly to make sense of the situation. “Also, can you tell me your name? I can’t remember who you are, but I feel like you sound really familiar.”

“You can’t… remember?” There’s a hush on the other end. “Ah, I see now. Your consciousness must have connected to my divine energy during your sleep.” She chuckles. “It begs the question why you were thinking about me so intensely before you fell asleep. I’ll have to ask when I see you tomorrow, though, my guess is that it’s related to me leaving without waking you as promised.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Alright, I guess.” I have no idea what this voice is going on about. I soldier on and fire off a burning question that’s been on my tongue, “What’s this divine energy you’ve been talking about? How is it related to the so-called connection between us?”

“I’ll start with the first before I move to the second.” The voice is faintly amused. “Your consciousness is akin to a sieve right now. You wouldn’t remember even if I explained things since nothing will carry over once you wake up.”

“Don’t care. I’ll leave that for the other me to deal with.”

“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you what I know.” The voice takes a breath. “The concept of divine energy is unclear, but if I had to explain it, it’s just as a separate, more powerful energy that exists in the universe.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s fine,” the voice huffs out a laugh. “Even I can’t be sure if what I’m saying is the whole truth. Despite living for as long as I have, the subject is as murky as it is when my family first named this special energy we’d accidentally obtained.”

Her admittance doesn’t inspire confidence, but it’s better than nothing. “So how is this… divine energy special?”

“Divine Energy is not a natural energy found in realms. Nor in the universe. But, as it turns out, it can be created in a particular set of circumstances. This is how my family and I became what we are now – divine beings.”

I snort. “Proclaiming yourselves as gods is kind of arrogant.”

“Do I think it’s egotistical? Yes, but it is simply the truth. As divine beings, we are essentially immortal. God-like, if you want to use the term. Unlike normal humans like yourself, we don’t require a vessel to exist.”

“So, you mean that because of this divine energy you have, you’re able to exist without a body.”

“Yes. Though, I suppose it’s more accurate to say we are made up of divine energy itself.”

A breathless laugh escapes me. “Wow, it’s kind of unfair that I’ll die while you won’t.”

“Don’t be overjoyed when you hear this, Mei. But even divine beings can die. But not in the same way you would. Your vessel, or what you call a body, begins to break down as your Spiritual Energy grows. We have a theory that you could avoid dying if your Spiritual Energy was simply transferred into another vessel, but it’s yet to be tested.”

“And why hasn’t it been?”

“Most of my family are averse to disrupting the natural order of the universe.” There’s a faint bitterness in her voice as she says this.

“Oh.” I don’t push the topic and ask, “Okay, so why does our spirt energy thing grow?”

“We don’t know. It is simply a natural process of the universe, and it always ends in the vessel breaking down completely. But, we’ve observed that Spiritual Energy tends to act differently for each realm.” The voice continues, “In your realm, Spiritual Energy seems to be highly potent. But in exchange for extremely limited lifespans and a whole host of other deficits, civilization has advanced far quicker and birthed magnificent creations not found in any other realms.”

“If you could avoid waxing lyricism about the internet, I’d appreciate it.”

“Ah, I spent far too much time on the subject of divine energy that I haven’t answered your other, more pressing question.” The voice – I finally realize it’s a she – laughs. “I’m not sure how you tapped into the speck of Divine Energy I placed in you, but you did. Communicating through it is usually impossible unless you’re taught how. It’s also kind of amazing you did it while you’re sleeping.”

I frown and say, “I’m definitely not asleep.”

“Regardless, I shouldn’t meddle with your subconscious.” Great, she’s not listening. There’s a growing pit of dread in my stomach. I find myself squirming in discomfort. “Don’t you mind, Mei,” she continues. “I’ll let you return to your rest. Perhaps my brother was right, I ought to tell you about what I truly am when you’re awake. I trust you enough to reveal that.”

“You’re telling me all this, but I still don’t know your name.” I stare at the pinprick of white light from earlier. It seems to be steadily growing bigger. “Hurry up. I’m getting cold.”

“Cold?” The amusement is replaced by confusion. “Where are you? I hope you’re not still at the hospital. Your plans are too important to spend the day sleeping.”

A steady trickle of memories fill my head.

So that’s what I was doing before ended up here. I’m about to cash in on my dues.

“No, I’m already at the bank. It’s just that Ling Ge’s not here yet.” Come to think of it… how am I going to know when he arrives? “I hope Miss Shueqi wakes me once he’s here.”

“Only you can sleep at a time like this. Your capacity to do as you please astounds even me, sometimes.”

Alright, I’m getting mad. “Hey, it’s not my fault! How should I have known drinking that would make me fall asleep?”

The blinding white light triples in size, transforming from a non-descript pinprick to a towering giant. It’s frightening to witness, and worse still, it suddenly surges towards me.

“What did you just–”

I rub my arms as the chill turns biting. “Why do I feel so cold?”

The crimson ball flashes erratically as the voice on the other end grows frantic. “I’m a fool. You aren’t asleep, you’re unconscious!” Her next words are underlaid with steel. She sounds wrathful, yet simultaneously, reassuring. “Mei. Don’t be afraid, I swear I’ll come for you.”

“Thank you.” Relief swells in my chest, catching me off guard. “I trust you, Ath–”

The encroaching light lashes out with sudden ferocity. My center of gravity is displaced, and I eat the intense brightness head on as I’m hurled into the light.

----------------------------------------

There’s an odd strain across my chest, arms and legs as I jerk into wakefulness. I blink away the dancing black spots. Uncontrollable shivers wrack my body as I struggle to focus. I work my tongue, leaden and numb in my mouth, trying to form a coherent sentence. Was I talking in my dreams?

A wave of icy water drenches me.

I shake my head to get the water out of my eyes, spitting out some that got into my mouth. My shivers worsen as the cold seeps into my clothes, settling on my body like a blood sucking parasite.

I feel droplets of water winding down the slope of my stomach and waist. It won’t be long before they collect into a sizeable puddle on the ground. I breathe through my mouth when my nose, clogged with mucus, barely draws in air.

“She’s awake.” The laughter, foreign and dreadful, echoes in my ears. “Finally!”