The words of the two beings echoed in Angelo's mind like thunder rolling through a hollow sky. You are us… and we are you.
He sat frozen upon the colorless throne, the void stretching endlessly in every direction. The silence pressed against him, heavier and more suffocating than noise.
"That's not possible," he whispered, voice trembling. "I'm human. Just… human. I'm not like you."
The white being, still seated across from him, regarded him with a calm, unreadable gaze. "You still haven't remembered, have you?"
"Remembered what? My life?" Angelo clutched the arms of his throne so tightly his knuckles ached. "I remember everything. My family, my home… I lived. I'm human. You're wrong."
But the void pulsed with truth, relentless. Denial trembled, then broke. Their voices overlapped—one serene, the other laced with quiet malice—as they spoke together, forming a harmony of revelation. It was not memory. It was remembering.
"We were not born. We were." they said. "The first spark before creation. The mind before thought. The hand that drew the circle and named time. The one who birthed light… and darkness. Creator and destroyer."
The weight of it pressed down on Angelo, nearly crushing his breath. Yet they continued, their cadence hypnotic, almost unbearable.
"From our existence, life unfolded—gods, demons, and many more, drawn into being by the echo of our power. But some of them got greedy, hungry for power."
Angelo had no idea what they were speaking of, yet every word felt unshakably real.
"Some of the earliest creations remained loyal—silent, scattered—but others… they multiplied. Imitations of divinity, feeding on remnants of our power. They rose, uninvited, spreading like wildfire through the branches of reality."
Sweat began to bead on Angelo's forehead. He could feel the Void stirring around them, restless.
"They tried to bind us," the beings said. "Tried to twist our essence for their own design." Their gaze locked onto him, unblinking, as if he could not look away even if he wanted to.
"In mercy, we tried to reason. In fury, we unmade. But the cycle repeated: betrayal, war, destruction—until, at last, we withdrew."
For a heartbeat, a faint flicker passed through their eyes. Then, their voices softened, deliberate.
"A vessel. A child. An empty page. A chance for peace. We poured ourselves into the vessel, sealing the raging storm within a mark—a symbol not of curse, but of control."
Both beings pointed at Angelo. "That vessel… is you."
The white being's voice softened further, almost tenderly. "The mark does not merely hide and regulate your power. It contains us. Making sure the vessel doesn't fracture, releasing the ancient wrath we hold."
The void trembled beneath him, subtle but insistent. Far below, the shifting surface glimmered like oil over water—alive, hungering.
"That is why I warned you," the white being said, its voice calm and unwavering. "Embrace the darkness and light together… but do not let the Void take over."
The words gripped Angelo's chest like frost. He felt them burrow deep into his bones.
Then, the white figure's eyes narrowed, as if seeing something Angelo could not. Its voice grew urgent, heavy.
"Your family… they've been taken. The military has them. And your body is no longer your own—they are experimenting on it."
Angelo's eyes widened. He shot upright from the throne. "What?!"
The white being did not answer. It simply vanished. No flash. No trail. Just… gone.
Angelo whipped his gaze toward the crimson being. "What just happened? Where did he go?"
The figure lounging upon the crimson throne grinned, slow and unsettling. "To save you… and your precious family. You should feel honored."
Angelo sank back onto the throne. Beneath him, it drifted slightly, as if sensing his unease. He felt hollow, lost, and more worried than ever. He sat in silence, letting the weight settle.
After a long pause, his voice thin, he asked, "What is this place?"
The crimson being tilted its head, smirking. "This… is your soul." Its arms spread wide, as if embracing the entire void. "Or should I say, your true soul."
Angelo's eyes swept over the endless void, the thrones, the flickering abyss below. It stretched infinitely, yet it did not feel empty.
The crimson being's expression darkened briefly. "You look unphased, even after hearing all that."
Angelo exhaled slowly. "Well… with all the things you and the other being are telling me, none of it makes sense to me. Most of it just goes over my head."
The crimson being clicked its tongue. "Tsk. Ignorance truly is bliss."
"But this void," it continued, voice dropping lower, "is more than just your soul. It's the remnant of what you used to be. A space even we cannot fully control." Its tone deepened. "You must never come here again—not on purpose. If you fall too far into this place… there may be no way back."
Angelo's gaze fell to the shifting black below, mesmerized yet terrified.
"When the white one returns, he and I will fuse with you. Becoming almost whole. You will be able to use our powers. But the power we give you… will never be complete unless you choose to grow into it."
The crimson figure's voice echoed faintly through the airless void, like distant thunder. "You are the one who decides how much of us you can wield. The more you train, the more you accept… the more you will become."
"But," it added, cold and unyielding, "this Void will remain… watching. Waiting."
A long silence followed, heavy and suffocating, until it spoke again, quieter now. "After we fuse with you, we can no longer keep this place in check. You must ensure your current soul does not get consumed by the true one, by the Void. Everything will be in your hands. Every decision, every path… will be yours to bear."
Angelo shook his head, frustration rising. "I don't want your powers. I just want to live a normal life, spend my days with my family and friends. You can keep your powers… and maintain this place yourself."
The crimson figure slowly leaned back into its throne, eyes locked on him. "That is not something you can afford. That thing knows your location. It will destroy everything in its path. You need our powers to stop it forever."
Angelo argued, desperation creeping into his voice. "Then why don't you take it on yourself?"
The crimson being exhaled, irritated. "If I, or the white one, were to take over the Vessel, it would be destroyed under the pressure. You have not trained enough to withstand even a fraction of our power. And if the Vessel is destroyed, the Void will be free once again. And you do not want to know what that brings."
Angelo said no more. He lowered his head, burying his hands over it. The weight pressed down, crushing him from the inside.
The crimson being leaned forward slightly, gaze sharp. "Your choices," it said slowly, deliberately, "will shape the end of all things."