The Celestial Shift

I don't know how long it has been since I died. Right now, I'm trapped within this godforsaken void. All I can see are orbs floating around, constantly in motion. But why the hell am I the only one not moving? Is it because of karma? I don't think I have done anything that would warrant such a fate.

I never did something heinous or even killed someone. My life has been, at best, mediocre. I've held a job, had some fun here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary.

"Hello? Is there any god here? Did you forget about me? Maybe I should move on to nirvana or whatever it's called."

Well, it seems like no one is here. Perhaps I can simply observe these floating orbs in silence.

Hmmm, is this what we call a soul? They appear mostly transparent, as if made of ethereal light. Each soul has a distinct shimmering essence, like delicate wisps of energy intertwined within. As I focus on them, I sense a multilayered depth within each soul, as if they contain echoes of past experiences. It's both fascinating and mysterious.

As time passes, I continue to observe the procession of souls. Some drift aimlessly, their course uncertain and without direction. Others, however, are irresistibly drawn towards a massive black hole, as if being pulled by an unseen force. Could it be that they are destined for reincarnation?

...

Five minutes passed by, each moment feeling suspended in the void.

...

An hour crawled by, the stillness amplifying the weight of time's passage.

...

One month slipped away, but my sense of time remains hazy and elusive. It's as if the concept of time has lost its grip on me within this ethereal realm. How many more months will blend together before clarity finds its way back to me?

As time lingers, my sense of self grows increasingly numb.

It appears that this place serves as a purifying ground for souls, erasing any remnants of past memories.

The notion of losing my cherished recollections fills me with trepidation, as if part of my identity is slowly slipping away.

I desperately search for a way to preserve my memories, to safeguard the essence of who I am. There must be a way to resist the unyielding current of oblivion that threatens to consume me.

Observing the other orbs, I notice that they emit a faint light before their transparency increases, leading them towards the beckoning black hole. Could it be possible to consume and absorb that emitted light?

Aware of the peril of losing myself in this chaotic amalgamation, I devise a plan. I decide to create a mind map, a structured layout of who I am, to separate and categorize these foreign energies.

The memories of being a mouse, gecko, elephant, or even a gorilla seem like mere fragments of whimsical existence, while the memories of being a doctor or an engineer hold more significance.

With care and deliberation, I construct a palace of libraries within my mind, each book representing a different aspect of these memories. The memories I deem beneficial and meaningful find their place in these sacred tomes, while the ones I perceive as unnecessary or potentially harmful are set aside to strengthen my soul, providing me with resilience and clarity.

Slowly but surely, my time within this ethereal realm becomes less mundane. I am no longer merely a passive observer; I actively separate and store memories, constructing a sanctuary of knowledge within my palace of libraries. The energies of these memories, once tangled and overwhelming, now serve a purpose, fortifying my soul.

Upon reflection, it becomes apparent that the human memories I encounter are fragmented and incomplete. It is a realization that prompts caution and reluctance within me. I am reluctant to delve too deeply into absorbing all the memories, as doing so may result in an amalgamation of identities and the potential for multiple personality disorder.

Preserving my own sense of self and identity becomes the most important. While exploring and gathering knowledge from the memories of others is intriguing, I recognize the need to exercise restraint. It is essential to maintain clarity and coherence within my being, carefully selecting only those memories that contribute to my growth and understanding, while respectfully leaving behind the rest.

After collecting memories from another soul, I find myself endeavoring to mobilize my own soul. Considering my lack of a physical form, the question arises: How can I traverse in this realm? Perhaps I could harness surplus energy derived from the souls I absorb in order to propel myself forward?

From the look of it, I can move freely. I just need to make sure I don't use too much energy since I can't even produce energy and energy are from energy that I absorb.

As I venture to a new location, contemplation fills my thoughts. Despite absorbing numerous souls' energy, I have yet to encounter something extraordinary or an individual well-versed in the ways of magic or cultivation.

Perhaps my search simply requires perseverance.

Suddenly, a rift appears in the fabric of the void, revealing two colossal orbs engaged in a perpetual clash, emanating a potent energy. These orbs, substantial and akin to my own essence, draw me closer. As I gradually absorb their energy, fragments of information begin to materialize within my mind.

Within this newly acquired memory, I perceive a vivid depiction of individuals locked in a cycle of ceaseless conflict, battling and honing their skills through cultivation. All i can see is blood everywhere. These soul past memories is always constant fighting.

As the two souls continue their relentless clash, their essence gradually becomes more translucent, offering an opportunity for me to absorb their energy. I might be able to traverse through another black hole so I can reincarnated without losing myself.

As I assimilate the energies, a sense of overwhelming fullness envelops me. To accommodate the influx of information, I realize the need to reorganize and expand my mental abode, the mind palace.

Delving deeper into the memories of the two souls, I stumble upon a profound cultivation technique known as the "Celestial Demon Art."

Intriguingly, this practice necessitates the utilization of blood, specifically divine blood sourced from celestial monsters of divine origin. It becomes clear that obtaining such blood is a prerequisite for delving further into this enigmatic cultivation path.

In addition to the "Celestial Demon Art," I discover another cultivation method known as the "Heavenly Phoenix Path" within the memories of the second soul. Intriguingly, this path revolves around harnessing the essence of the phoenix. Whether the essence is obtained from the soul or the blood, as long as there exists phoenix essence, one can embark on this cultivation journey.

As the energies of the two souls are gradually assimilated, their essence transforms from translucent to transparent, eventually dissipating into another black hole. It becomes apparent that they are embarking on a new cycle of reincarnation.

Farewell, my friend, and thank you for the energy shared. Though they cannot hear my words, a wistful chuckle escapes me in this moment.

As time continues its unyielding march, countless souls pass by, yet none pique my interest. The duration remains uncertain, whether it spans a mere decade or extends into centuries. The realization dawns upon me that it is time to seek a new black hole, a gateway for my eventual reincarnation.

I place my hopes in the reserve energy I have gathered, relying on its potency to propel me beyond this forsaken realm.