Purpose

In the abyss of darkness, Alaric felt an eerie detachment from his own existence. Attempting to discern his surroundings, he tried to feel out his body, yet there was no feedback of sensation. An unsettling disconnection left him groping for a semblance of reality. He attempted to speak, only to find that his voice was nonexistent in this void. His consciousness, once a bastion of clarity, now resembled a chaotic maelstrom.

Struggling to piece together what had transpired, Alaric delved into the recesses of his memory. Each attempt, however, only intensified the disorientation. The darkness, seemingly animated, shifted unpredictably, casting doubt on the reliability of his perceptions. Was it a visual manifestation or a trick played by his deprived senses? Time lost its definition, leaving him in a state of uncertainty regarding the duration of his disconcerting limbo.

A profound silence enveloped him, broken only by the echo of his thoughts. Realization seeped into his consciousness—he had passed out. The acknowledgment brought with it a mild surge of pain, akin to the dull throb of an impending migraine. Yet, amidst the discomfort, the fog clouding his mind began to lift, and his thoughts gradually regained coherence.

As moments passed, Alaric sensed a glimmer of normalcy returning. Determined to reestablish a connection with the universe's consciousness, he reached out. To his dismay, his efforts were met with failure. The link that had once been a conduit for boundless information and understanding eluded him. It was as if a vital part of his being had been severed, leaving him isolated in the silent expanse of his own mind.

The weight of silence pressed upon Alaric's consciousness, a pervasive stillness that stretched into what felt like an endless eternity. Yet, within this boundless quietude, Alaric found an unexpected serenity. The fluid dance of ever-changing darkness became a refuge, a soothing distraction that embraced him in its calming embrace. Amidst the tranquil void, his mind began to drift, yearning for a reprieve—a simple desire echoed within his thoughts: 'A bed would be nice.'

Though this inclination wasn't entirely his own, it lingered in his mind as if woven into the fabric of his very being. As the comfort of the darkness grew, a subtle longing for rest stirred within him. Abruptly, the familiar surroundings shifted, and he found himself in a vast, white expanse—a room that radiated purity and simplicity. At its centre lay an inviting bed, its plush appearance beckoning Alaric with an irresistible allure.

Drawn by an unseen force, he approached the bed, feeling an ethereal lullaby resonate through the air. The melody, surreal and angelic, enveloped him in a cascade of otherworldly beauty. Unlike anything he had experienced in either his current life or the one that seemed distant and obscured, the voice of the lullaby guided him towards the embrace of the inviting sheets.

At that moment, a profound peace settled over him, prompting his hand to reach for the covers. Yet, in the midst of this serene scene, a sudden realization pierced through the tranquillity. An icy awareness gripped Alaric as he questioned the necessity of such an act. 'Aren't I supposed to be alone in my own head? Why would I need to sleep when only the body requires such rest?'

The revelation struck like a cold, unforgiving wind, unravelling the delicate illusion of peace that had momentarily cocooned him. Fear, primal and instinctual, seized him. His hand recoiled from the bed sheets with an unnatural swiftness, a response fueled by the instinct that something was fundamentally amiss.

As the echoes of his fear reverberated in the stillness, a sudden laughter disrupted the quiet. A white humanoid figure materialized, devoid of features or a discernible face. In the absence of facial features, the laughter seemed to emanate from an abyss. The being's enigmatic presence sent shivers down Alaric's spine, and without a visible face, it uttered a statement that hung in the air with an unsettling weight. "Well, that has only ever happened twice... what an interesting soul."

A disconcerting chill gripped Alaric as the implications of those words settled in the air. The surreal encounter left him suspended in a liminal space, caught between unsettling revelations that his mind was generating at breakneck speeds.

In the vast expanse of nothingness, the peculiar entity before Alaric remained an enigma. Its form, or lack thereof, puzzled him as it lacked a face, yet Alaric felt a sense of acknowledgement from its direction.

"Hello there," the being's voice echoed, cutting through the silence that enveloped them. Alaric, still grappling with the surreal nature of the situation, did not respond. Instead, he instinctively checked his connection to the universe's consciousness, only to find it stubbornly unresponsive.

A sigh emanated from the featureless being. "Really?" it uttered, a hint of exasperation tinging its voice. Alaric, feeling a mix of confusion and defiance, clenched his fists and assumed a defensive stance. To his surprise, the being mirrored him, adopting a boxer's pose.

"Come on then, get it over with," the being encouraged, an unexpected invitation to physical confrontation hanging in the air. However, instead of engaging in combat, Alaric chose a different path. His inquiry echoed in the empty space, "Who or what are you?" The response he received was not the straightforward answer he anticipated.

The being, with an oddly joyous tone, remarked, "Finally, now we're getting somewhere! Even in your previous life, you were all 'throw hands first, ask questions later.' A little character development was overdue, don't you think?"

This retort pushed Alaric further, and he couldn't help but question his sanity. Alaric, grappling with the surreal nature of the conversation, felt a surge of frustration. "Have I gone insane? Am I dead?" he questioned, seeking some semblance of understanding.

The creature dismissed the notion of death, tying it to falling asleep, but left the query about Alaric's sanity hanging. "Definitely not dead, almost, but not dead," it responded, a hint of amusement in its incorporeal voice. "But as for sanity, well, let's just say I've seen more stable minds."

The cosmic being's humorous appreciation didn't sit well with Alaric. He sighed in acknowledgement, muttering, "Maybe I should have fallen asleep."

The creature, maintaining its cryptic aura, responded with a hint of wit, "Too late, that ship's sailed." Alaric, turning around to find the previously present bed missing, expressed his disappointment audibly. The strange twists of this cosmic encounter left him questioning the very fabric of his reality.

Silent contemplation filled the void as Alaric, finally breaking his silence, asked the fundamental question. "Who are you?" The weight of the revelation to follow left Alaric in a state of disarray, grappling with the incomprehensible nature of his encounter with the cosmic essence itself. The dance between the mortal and the cosmic continued.

The being, assuming an air of cosmic significance, replied matter-of-factly, "I am the Universe's consciousness."