The sterile, white hospital room was bathed in harsh fluorescent light. Monitors beeped frantically as Ethan's body writhed in agony. Pain surged through his veins like fire—raw, unrelenting, unnatural. His vision dimmed. Consciousness flickered like a dying flame.
Alarms screamed. Nurses stormed in. Doctors barked orders.
But none of them realized…
They were already too late.
Ethan's body remained—but he was no longer there.
He floated now in a formless void—black, endless, infinite. There was no gravity, no sound. No time. Only memory.
Before him, ghostly visions danced like torn film reels. His life played out in fragments: Sasha's laughter, Tom's warm hand on his shoulder, his brother's cold glare, the endless nights in that cursed lab. Rick's betrayal. Alia's pale hand reaching for him in the dark.
"Am I dying?"
"No… I haven't found Tom or Sasha yet."
"I still have to kill Rick… and save Alia…"
"I still have so much to do…"
As despair threatened to engulf him, a deep, calm voice echoed through the void—gentle, timeless, powerful.
"No, Ethan. You are not dying."
His breath caught in the silence. He spun, eyes wide, trying to find the source.
"Wh-Who are you? Come out!"
"Calm down, boy. I mean you no harm."
"No! You're trying to take my soul, aren't you?! Or—wait—are you a god of reincarnation?! Are you sending me to another world?! I won't obey your will!" Ethan's words tumbled out, frantic and wild.
The voice interrupted, gently.
"No need for wild thoughts, Ethan. I am not here to harm or control you. I am here to prepare you and calm down."
Everything stilled. Time—if it existed here—slowed. The memories vanished. Silence fell like snow.
Eventually, Ethan found his voice again.
"…Why me? What even is this place? What do you mean by apocalypse? And who… what are you?"
The voice returned, warmer now, almost amused.
"You've calmed down. Good. I am Estrade—the planet itself. A living, conscious world preserved from the last cosmos."
"The universe is not infinite. It is cyclical. The last cosmos ended, and this one is just beginning. Between the death of one and the birth of another lies chaos… and trials. Most souls fade into the abyss. But rare ones survive. You, Ethan, possess a Void Soul."
"…A Void Soul?"
"Yes. A soul forged in pain, tempered in betrayal, and unbroken by despair. One that can survive 3,000 years of erosion. One that resists the corruption of time itself. Such souls are needed for what is to come."
Ethan felt it then—deep within himself. Not just pain or memory, but something ancient. Endless. Waiting.
"The apocalypse is not a singular event. It is a rebirth. But not all are worthy of the new world. You are not the only one chosen—but you are one of the rarest."
"Your path will be long. Your battles... cruel. But if you can endure, you may reclaim all you've lost—and even more."
Ethan stared into the void, fists clenched. "If this is real… then I don't care what it costs. I will survive. I will find Tom. I will bring back Sasha. And Rick…"
His eyes blazed with fury.
"I will end him."
A silent pulse passed through the void—acknowledgment. Agreement.
"Very well."
"Then let this be your first step, Void Soul."
"Welcome to the fracture between worlds——where destiny is forged in silence."