Intersection of fate

The doctor exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the moment. "Right now, his body is suffering from severe internal injuries, and his organs are in such disarray that surgery is nearly impossible. I'm ashamed to say there is no other way," he admitted, his tone low, each word a shard of helplessness slicing through the room.

Zion's father had never been a man of small means or bounds-a billionaire, a colossus within the oil industry felt the stifling feeling of insignificance cast upon him. For the first time in his life, he was weak helpless before the fragile thread of his son's existence, which fluttered precariously over the abyss.

***

Suddenly, the world seemed to shudder as an unexpected blackout enveloped the globe, plunging the room into a chilling darkness. The rhythmic hum of the ventilator ceased, and behind its sudden halt lay an oppressive, roaring silence in their ears. Zion's body was in violent trembling on the bed, his head thrashing from side to side, as if he were caught between worlds.

"Doctor, please, do something! Please!" Zion's mother cried, her voice cracking under the weight of her despair, tears streaming down her face and shimmering like liquid agony.

The doctor ran from the room, his footsteps a frantic staccato against the linoleum, as he shouted orders to switch to the hospital's power plant. But all efforts were in vain. Zion's body convulsed one last time before falling eerily still, and the unbearable truth descended like a hammer blow.

His soul, faint and ethereal, seemed to rise above his lifeless form, a fleeting essence no longer tethered to the physical realm. "Mom, I'm here. Everything is okay," he whispered, his voice a soft echo that went unheard, his attempts to reach her rendered useless by the barrier between their worlds.

He lifted his gaze to stare down at his own lifeless body-the fragile vessel that had carried him. "Those fucking gods, I only mentioned, having and internal rest for fun but they grant it but ignored all our now nothing more than a hollow shell.

"Those fucking gods," he muttered bitterly, his voice echoing in the emptiness, "I only mentioned having an internal rest for fun, but they granted it, completely disregarding all our prayers." He clenched his right fist, his ghostly form trembling with fury, radiating an enormous surge of energy that rippled through the void. As the weight of his mortality faded into nothingness, he felt the crushing realization of his disconnection, and found himself adrift in a place where he no longer belonged.

He went closer to his lifeless body and stretched his trembling hand to touch it, but it vanished like mist against sunlight, disappearing before his frantic efforts. Then, a deafening sound boomed in at the window, rent the air with a sharp crack, as if a streak of lightning had slammed through. The sound sent everybody's head spinning towards its direction. They ran to the window and tried hard to catch a glimpse of the originator of the din in a haste.

Vehicular remains were strewn all over the streets outside: a jam of paralyzed metals as motorists and pedestrians thronged the streets. Their faces were wrenched upwards with fear and wonder.

Zion's soul and his parents looked skyward, but the view from their side was incomplete. Instinctively, his parents scrambled out of the room to get a better view, the sound of their feet loud with pressing eagerness.

Zion, from years of ingrained habit and simple forgetfulness, attempted to follow her, but was snapped back by the ghostly chain that anchored his soul to his body. The chain strained taut, glimmering faintly, binding him to the mortal plane. Annoyed, he drifted back to the window, his body phasing through the wall as if the latter had been nothing more than fumes of vapor. He floated weightlessly, standing in the air, as his transparent stare scanned the turmoil outside.

The sky above was churning like an angry sea, and out of the clouds came a humanoid figure now luminous and extra-terrestrial. Zion could feel the tremendous amount of energy the figure possessed-tsunami power that leaned against him, and its intensity was stifling and humbling.

In his soul state, he could feel its full magnitude, raw and unfiltered, like standing at the edge of an erupting volcano. The figure raised a hand, and the heavens seemed to recoil, sending forth a stifling aura that shook the very fabric of existence.

The next moment, the chain on Zion snapped with a sharp crack, like the cracking of bonds forged since eternity. Freed from the shackles that tethered him to his body, he felt a surge of freedom laced with terror. Yet his liberation was short-lived. His soul, now unanchored, became unstable, swirling violently in the currents of the celestial's energy. The overwhelming force swept him away like a leaf caught in a storm, hurtling him out of the planet's sphere of influence.

As he was hurled into the void, spinning like a comet across the endless expanse, he caught the figure more clearly now-a celestial being of radiant white, exuding ageless authority. Though serenity bathed its face, an unfathomable power coiled within, belied by its seeming mortal visage. Instinctively, Zion reached out, a futile attempt to confront or communicate, but an unseen force yanked him deeper into the void.

The heavenly figure turned its gaze to where Zion's soul had vanished, piercing eyes narrowing as it sensed the faintest flicker of movement. For a moment, it seemed to search, its divine senses probing the cosmos, but the trail dissipated like smoke in the wind, leaving nothing behind.

The celestial figure continued, its form exuding an aura of supremacy as it yanked a clump of earth from its obit, imbuing the planet with a torrent of cataclysmic energy. The ground heaved violently, an anguished symphony of tremors that reverberated through the core of creation.

Mountains crumbled like ancient scrolls being torn apart; rivers boiled and evaporated into a suffocating mist. The earth shrieked in anguish under its torment as cities fell to ruin, the towering edifices within them bowing at the fury let loose upon them.

Every nook of the land convulsed in a madness as mankind ran, trying to flee the desperate tide of souls from a refuge that was nowhere to be found. But escape was only an illusion, for the Earth's crust proved a traitor, yawning wide to swallow all in its sight. Constructions that fell became the executors, their pitiless fall stifling cries of terror. The laughter of the heavenly creature rumbled deep and resonant, a dirge over the apocalyptic scene.

Mortal beings shall always be mortal, no matter how high they aim to rise," the figure intoned, his voice a hymn of disdain laced with cruel amusement. It reveled in destruction, its divine gaze drinking the chaos. "You will all become part of my strength," he declared with finality, the words carrying along an unshakeable decree of decision.

The figure intensified its power, which surged over Earth in a deluge of energy so strong that even space and time buckled under its influence. Existency tore into tatters on the planet; the very reality of the existence rended into jagged pieces.

Human souls fractured and disintegrated, fragile and finite, leaving only ash from an unsatiated inferno to scatter their legacies. Its divinity enshrouded the planet as a prison of cosmic authority that shut every soul inside, not letting them out, and the right to the reincarnation cycle was cut off-the eternal dance of life and death-and it kept the spirits inside, silent witness to their own annihilation.

This unholy rapture lasted for two centuries-the Earth slowly shrinking, inescapably so, beneath the crushing burden of God's will. Finally, it shrunk to a pill-sized relic, radiating an energy so deep that its core seemed to hum with the very essence of creation.

At last," the celestial figure murmured, each word dripping with triumph as it examined its prize. The Earth pill shone in its grasp, a microcosm of unparalleled power, forged from the obliteration of billions. "At last, my time and effort to get this have finally borne fruit.

In the blink of an eye, he vanished from sight, as though a shadow consumed by the first light of dawn, leaving behind a trail of desolation. Thousands of planets hung in the void like silent witnesses to their own doom, their fates sealed by the same unrelenting hand that now sought the next target.

The emptiness that followed his departure was as vast as the cosmos, a harrowing prelude to the devastation that awaited those celestial bodies, trembling under the weight of inevitability.