“In which realm do you wish your spiritual energy be revived?”
The being before me is incomprehensible. The form it takes cannot be described as a shape, the slopes and planes of its body not geometrically of this world. Its skin, or what passes as skin, ripples like a piece of cloth cut from the fabric of universe.
“I don’t understand.” The feeling of speaking without a mouth is strange. My words come unbidden, pulled from unfathomable depths I wasn’t aware I had. “Realm? Spirit energy? Revived?” I pick out unfamiliar words like a child would pick out vegetables from their plate.
“Your vessel has perished. Your spirit energy, which the denizens of your realm call a ‘Soul’ has returned to this space, where none but myself can tread. It is a space that exists between realms and worlds, a space created by the very universe itself.”
“And what did you say this place was called?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Nexus.” The cosmic entity makes a sound that echoes throughout this endless abyss. I hesitate to call it a sound for it resembles nothing I’ve ever heard. “I am the One who stands sentinel, One who overlooks the cycle and heeds the whims of the Universe. Watcher.”
The words of Watcher makes me realize something. “My vessel has perished… does this mean I’m dead?”
“In your definition of death… yes. Your spirit energy had a chance to remain in your realm due to the actions of another being, but I was bidden to return you here.”
“May I know why?”
“I cannot say. I heed the Universe, and its whimsy is not something I can comprehend.”
Watcher’s words have no tone nor emotion. I don’t understand what it’s saying and simply want to let myself drift into numbness, but there is something I don’t quite understand.
“Watcher. How did I die?”
“You do not remember? Strange. Your memories should remain for I have yet to wipe the slate clean.”
Watcher’s statement gives me pause. “I really don’t remember.”
“Perhaps the violent nature of your death is what prevents you from kindling your memories. No matter. One such as I do not need to lift a finger, for the universe will always right itself.”
And then, slowly, like a tide rushing to shore, my memories return.