I saw nothing.
Not darkness. If there was darkness there would have been something. This was the absence of everything. No light, no shadow, no depth or distance. I couldn't see my hands. Couldn't feel my body. Couldn't hear the sound of my own breathing because there was no breathing to hear.
It wasn't like closing your eyes. Closing your eyes still leaves you aware of the weight of your eyelids, the pressure behind them, the faint patterns that dance across your vision when you press too hard. This was none of that.
I just… existed.
It was the strangest sensation I'd ever experienced—like being a thought without a thinker. A consciousness floating in a void that had no walls, no floor, no ceiling. No temperature. No gravity. No sense of up or down. I couldn't tell if seconds were passing or years. Time felt meaningless here, irrelevant.
