Inner Realm – The Celestial Core Zone
The universe pulsed in silence.
Above him—no sky, no stars, no horizon. And yet… all of existence was there. In the vast silence of his Inner Realm, Anay felt it. Not as an idea, not as a metaphor—but as a truth.
He sat in deep meditation, his body unmoving at the center of the floating lotus sigil beneath him. From his chest, a glowing dark purple aura extended outward—rising in slow spirals like a nebula waking from sleep.
His core… no longer felt like something inside him.
It was him.
And around it, something stirred.
A hum.
A pressure.
A presence.
The space around him flickered—and then broke apart like glass hit by light.
And suddenly, he was floating in the void.
Not empty… but infinite.
Countless specks of light—stars—gathered in every direction, shifting and breathing with a rhythm that wasn't random. It was his rhythm. His breath. His soul.
"Wh…at is this…" Anay whispered, eyes wide.
Then—
A wave began to rise.
From far across this universe-space, a tide of radiant light stirred—like galaxies folding inward, spiraling toward his being. The wave grew taller, deeper, closer—composed not of water, but of radiant cosmic essence.
He didn't resist.
He simply breathed.
And the wave—
Hit.
But it didn't crash—it merged.
The moment it touched his aura, Anay felt the boundary between his self and the universe collapse.
His breath slowed.
His heart dissolved into starlight.
His skin shimmered as if made of spiritual dust.
Time paused. Space bowed.
The wave flowed through him like a river through glass—not from outside in, but inside out. As if the universe wasn't coming to him… but returning to its origin.
He wasn't absorbing the cosmos.
He was the cosmos.
He floated—weightless, voiceless, free.
No thought. No doubt.
Only energy.
His aura surged—twisting with endless spirals, no longer just purple, but threaded with silvers and golds. He felt each pulse of starlight expand his soul, stretch his awareness.
He could feel systems forming within him—not literal galaxies, but spiritual constellations:
One pulsed with stillness.
One thrummed with boundless energy.
Another spun in perfect rhythm, like destiny clockwork.
And at the center of them all…
Was his core.
Not shaped like a heart, but a sphere—pure, translucent, radiant with movement.
It shimmered in dark amethyst light, orbiting with smaller spiritual satellites—his instincts, his will, his intention.
He looked at it—truly saw it.
And whispered:
"…This… is me?"
The wave had stilled, but its energy remained—residing in his core, flowing in patterns older than memory.
This wasn't just power.
It was realization.
It was truth.
And as he stared into his essence, the voice of Zettai Anant echoed—softly, with awe:
"You are beginning to remember."