The Epicenter of All Realities

In an endless maze that extended infinitely in all directions, containing infinite variants of the prime universe, was an elegant lady. She was draped in flowing robes adorned with intricate floral patterns, and she sat gracefully amidst an endless pile of threads.

Her fingers were nimble, they moved with precision and grace, as if each of them had a mind of their own; weaving together intricate designs of vibrant colors.

Her work looked like webs of woven silk, but very much compact, they were akin to the net venation on leaves. Each thread flowed effortlessly through her nimble fingers as she remained in a state of concentration.

Light illuminated the crystallized vastness of her surroundings, casting a mesmerizing glow that danced upon the walls of fractals and shards. The air hummed, carried by the gentle breeze that whispered through the threads.

As she wove, the space before her suddenly began to shift and warp. At that instant, pieces of threads began to appear out of thin air, knotting, wrapping and strapping together into intricate patterns. It started to materialize into a figure, gradually taking on a form. It had a human-like figure.

But after its finer details had formed, its head mirrored that of a shark and a whale simultaneously, a fearsome combination that was both fascinating and unnerving.

Pausing her weaving, the lady turned her gaze towards the figure, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Have you found a compatible soul, Moby?" she asked, her voice was ethereal yet filled with a sense of wisdom.

In response, the sharkman nodded, with a smile coaxing at the corner of his mouth and a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. Opening his mouth, a white ball of light escaped, gently floating in the vast space.

Moby, with a graceful bow, stepped to the side, seamlessly blending into the surrounding fractal walls. The transformation was swift, his entire body crystallized to resemble the same patterns that adorned the infinite maze. The walls shimmered, reflecting his presence, as if he had become a mere extension of its intricate designs.

The woman emerged from her sitting position, and moved towards the ball of light. Each step of hers seemed to cause a disturbance in the ground, causing it to ripple, as though she was walking on water.

Gradually, the consciousness within the ball of light fluttered to life. "Damn, what was that... a whale?" Seymour thought, "I was eaten by a shark, at the same time a whale. Wait a minute..."

The ball of light slowly spun around, as Seymour took in the sight of his surroundings. "Is this the insides of a whale?" He asked astonishingly. "But I haven't heard of a place like this before. Maybe humans never made this discovery. But that's absurd, it takes only slicing a whale or..."

Deep in a trance, he failed to make out the being approaching from behind. She lifted a finger, twiddling it in the air, and threads from nowhere latched onto the light sphere, forcefully stretching it out.

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! That hurts, that f*cking hurts." Seymour yelled, spinning to the other side. "I assume it's your doing, lady, what are you doing to me?"

After a long pause, she responded, "Stretching you into shape is all..." She continued twiddling, unsatisfied with the outcome just yet. The ball of light had been stretched vertically, a good five feet tall. But only now, did some semblance of a human anatomy start to show on the ball.

"Whooow! OK! OK! I see what you're doing. I don't know how the hell you are doing it, but it's good. Just take it easy on me, please." Seymour rapped, feeling his insides being pulled apart.

Once the ball was vertically six feet tall, she stopped twiddling and detached her strings, which vanished out of sight.

Seymour glanced at his luminous body, that now had a human form. He took one long glance at the woman before him and asked, "I'm I supposed to say...thank you, for nearly pulling me apart?"

She said nothing in response to that, only acknowledging him from the top of his head, to the sole of his foot. Just then she heard him say...

"Is this whale's gut dated in the 90s or something? I mean, what's with the bloomers?" Seymour shamelessly asked, having noticed the bloomer she wore under her ethereal lacy gown. "Do women even wear corsets outside their clothes anymore? Well, I would have to admit, that corset fits you perfectly, hoisting those swollen globes of sensitive flesh."

The ethereal lady stares down at her pumped cleavage, with a mild look of insecurity flashing in her eyes, for a moment. A slight frown hid behind her pouting mouth, as she glared at him.

"Hmm!" She heaved a sigh and went back to the infinite threads waiting to be woven.

"I promised not to meddle, but I suppose I couldn't help it this time." She murmured under her breath, before plummeting into her flowery seat. "Moby did find a compatible soul after all."

Seymour wasn't done taking in his surroundings, the ethereal view intrigued him to the point where, staring at one spot a thousand times didn't make it look any older.

"A whale's belly really is this glamorous?" He asked, not expecting any answer to that, but got one anyway.

"This isn't a whale's gut." She muttered, mustering the resolve to ignore what a jackass he was. "This is the epicenter of all realities."

"Hmm, sounds as good as it looks." Seymour nodded, still taking in the surrounding sight. "And one has to be eaten by a shark-whale to get here, yes?"

"Not exactly," she responded while weaving away. "Moby Dick brought you here under my orders."

"Moby Dick?!" Seymour scoffed lukewarmly. "And the only way to do that was to swallow me?"

"No! Slaughter you and gobble you up" She pointed out, struggling to bear with this unbearable soul, even for a being like her.

Suddenly, memories began to resurface, the restroom, the sudden darkness, the chaotic display of his broken dreams and lost potential.

The memories of his ambitions, his aspirations, were still fresh in his mind. He glanced at his luminous form for a moment and was instantly inflicted by a desperate frenzy within him. He squinted at his own body, hoping to reclaim some semblance of what he once was. But there was no solidity to his being at all. He was now an empty soul.

He cried out in anguish, a wail that echoed through the boundless maze.

"Why?" Seymour's voice trembled with grief and disbelief. "How can it all just end like this?"

"Let's just say, the universe had a better purpose for your insignificant existence, and that purpose required your death." She mused nonchalantly.

"Insignificant, you say..." Seymour's tone changed from a pain inflicted one to that of a cutthroat masochist, as he peered with one eye, through the fingers of his palm that cupped his face. "And that's why you decided to kill me off like some useless side character?"

"Partly the reason, yes!" She replied, still weaving away. The realization that his hopes, his dreams, were torn asunder on a mere whim, weighed heavily on his ethereal form, causing it to ripple out of pent-up frustration. "And who the hell are you to dictate the existence of others?"

There was a slight pause, as though time itself had been suspended. After lounging back into her sit a while ago, she hadn't for ones stopped weaving until now. She looked at the insignificant soul throwing tantrums at her and said...

"I am God's actor!"

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