I froze in place, the chill in the air growing colder with each passing second. The whisper echoed in my mind, a sound I could no longer ignore. It wasn't just a voice—it was something more, something ancient and suffocating, pulling at the very core of my being.
"Welcome home, Psychobi."
I turned back to the gate, my reflection still staring back at me—twisted, wrong. The grin on my face had spread impossibly wide, stretching beyond anything natural. My hollow eyes stared out from the reflection, empty of all emotion, as though I had become something other than human.
A part of me wanted to scream, to turn away, to break free from whatever dark force had claimed me. But my body refused to obey. Every part of me felt paralyzed, trapped within the grip of this reality, this nightmare.
I stepped forward, my hand reaching for the cold metal of the gate. As soon as my fingers brushed against it, a shock of pure energy surged through my body. I gasped, my muscles locking up as the sensation flooded through me—electrical, painful, like a jolt from the deepest recesses of my soul.
The whispers grew louder, more urgent.
"It's time. You are the one. You always have been."
I wanted to pull my hand away, but I couldn't. The gate had me in its grip now, just as the book had, just as everything in my life had. I was bound, tethered to a destiny I had never wanted, a fate that was being forced upon me.
Suddenly, the ground beneath me shifted, a tremor running through the earth. The air grew thick, heavy with the weight of what was about to happen. My mind screamed at me to stop, but I couldn't. I was too far gone now.
The gate creaked, slowly swinging open, revealing what lay beyond. A dark, endless void stretched out before me, its depths seemingly infinite. But there was something else, something I couldn't quite place—a flicker of light at the farthest reach of the abyss.
I took a step forward, then another, my feet moving as though they had a mind of their own. Each step felt like I was sinking deeper into something I couldn't understand. The air around me became thick, suffocating, and the darkness felt alive, swirling around me as I descended further into the void.
My heart raced, the pulse in my ears deafening, but it wasn't fear I felt—it was something else. A hunger. A need. The desire to continue, to move forward, to uncover the truth.
I reached the edge of the void, the flickering light now growing clearer. It was a figure, a silhouette standing in the center of the darkness. The figure was tall, cloaked in shadow, and its presence radiated an undeniable power.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice shaky, but the words felt strangely familiar.
The figure didn't respond, but I could feel its gaze upon me, cold and penetrating. I felt like it was reading me, every thought, every fear, every secret.
It took a step toward me, and the ground beneath me trembled once again. I felt something shift in the air, something ancient and powerful, a force that seemed to hum with energy.
"You know who I am," the figure said, its voice low, resonating deep within me.
My mind recoiled. No, I didn't know. But as the figure stepped closer, a strange realization began to form at the back of my mind. It was a memory—distant, faded, but real.
I remembered a face. A face I hadn't seen in years. My father.
The figure's form shifted, the darkness parting like a veil to reveal the familiar features of my father's face—twisted, distorted, like the reflection in the gate. His eyes were hollow, empty. The same eyes I had seen in my own reflection.
I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest.
"You have always known, Psychobi," my father's voice said, now echoing in the depths of my mind. "You are the vessel. You are the key to what has always been."
The words felt like they were coming from everywhere at once, filling my thoughts, drowning out all reason. The hunger inside me grew stronger, the pull to understand—no, to embrace—what was happening overwhelming me.
"I didn't ask for this," I whispered, my voice trembling.
My father's figure smiled, a grin stretched too wide for his face. It was the same smile I had seen in the reflection, the same twisted, empty expression that haunted me.
"You never had to ask," he said, his voice now carrying an almost soothing tone. "It was always meant to be. You were always meant to lead, Psychobi. To open the gates. To bring the truth to those who seek it."
I felt the ground beneath me shift again, but this time, it wasn't the earth trembling—it was something deeper, something within me. A crack, a rift opening within my very soul.
The hunger, the desire, was no longer a passing feeling. It was an overwhelming force that consumed me, filling me with an insatiable need to reach beyond the veil of reality, to know.
And I understood, then. The truth wasn't just hidden in the pages of a book or in the whispers of the darkness—it was buried deep inside of me. I was the answer. I was the key.
There was no turning back. There never had been.
________
Jabrane
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