A man in his mid-twenties—an ordinary writer, distant from the world—drifted between reality and fantasy. He understood the truth of the world, yet refused to accept it, living by his own rules, following no one's path but his own.
His name was Pride.
Pride opened his eyes. He felt nothing—no pain, no weight. Only peace. A lightness that seemed unnatural.
"Hmm, this is different," he murmured to himself. "I've never had a dream like this. It's not like my usual meditation or energy circulation either."
He looked around, but there was only darkness. He couldn't see or feel his body—no hands, no feet—but somehow, he instinctively knew he existed.
"You are dead."
The voice boomed through the emptiness. Suddenly, a blinding light spread across the dark void as if space itself cracked open.
Pride's mind reeled. 'Am I really dead?' Memories surged—images of a bus accident, the shattering of glass, the violent impact.
As the reality of his death set in, he felt an invisible force trying to pull him somewhere. He didn't like it. He resisted, mustering every ounce of his will.
The space around him trembled. The pull intensified. Yet, when the light touched him, it couldn't move him. The pressure built, but eventually, it began to fade.
"Impossible."
A voice echoed through the space as a being materialized before him. It was made of light—not pure white or black—but a strange shade of gray, shimmering yet formless, staring at Pride without eyes or a face.
"How can you resist me? My power is absolute!" The entity's voice was filled with disbelief.
Pride stood firm. "You are not my God, not my Ancestor, and not any deity that can judge me. Who are you?"
"Silence!" The being roared. "You will answer me—how can you resist my power?"
Pride took a breath—whether real or imagined, he couldn't tell.
"I am the descendant of the Eighth Sage, a warrior by blood. I've learned arts that could easily elevate a man to godhood. But I promised my Ancestors I would never harm the world. I chose not to pursue that path… but make no mistake—I am a Supreme."
The gray entity shuddered, confused and afraid. "A Supreme? What do you mean?"
Pride's gaze sharpened. "Who are you? How did you bring me here?" His tone was no longer questioning—it was accusing. He could tell the being before him didn't belong to his world, his faith, or his destiny.
Suddenly, cracks echoed through the void.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
The space around them shattered like glass. From the broken fragments, a new presence emerged.
A being of pure white light—warm, radiant, and overwhelming with peace. Just standing in its glow filled Pride with an indescribable calmness, a stillness he didn't want to release.
"I'm sorry, my child. It was my fault… I let you be taken by them." The voice was soft, filled with unconditional love—the voice of a mother, or perhaps something greater.
Something shifted inside Pride. His emotions surged.
"No… it's not your fault." Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt himself return to a human form. He was crying—a river of emotions flowing freely. "I'm happy I could meet you before my time."
"It's not yet your time, my child. But I will come for you when the moment arrives."
"I'll be waiting… Supreme Celestial." His words trembled as the tears wouldn't stop.
"You can call me Mother… or Father. As you wish. You are a part of me." The Supreme Celestial—the Creator of all Supremes who existed beyond gods, who existed across all worlds—spoke gently. "For what you've endured, I grant you this."
A warmth spread through Pride's chest, a soft pulse he could feel within.
"What is this, Father?" he asked, unable to identify the sensation.
"In this next life, you will remember everything—every moment of your past existence."
Gratitude flooded Pride's heart. "Thank you, Father. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"It is not a gift. It is my duty, child."
"Yes, Father." Pride smiled through his tears. He had met his Creator before the end of his path—the path that would one day return him to the source of his being.
"Now go. Your next journey awaits."
"Yes."
As Pride turned, a path opened before him. Walking forward, he encountered a figure draped in simple orange robes. An old man, with jet-black hair, a lean but powerful build, stood waiting. His appearance was unremarkable, deceiving to those who didn't know—but Pride knew.
"Please bless me, Ancestor," Pride said, bowing—not on his knees, but lowering his head in deep respect, offering his heart and soul.
A soft voice greeted him. "Child, I am proud of you. You may not have done anything grand or world-shattering, but you always followed my teachings—even when it meant betraying your own family, even your father."
Regret burned in Pride's chest. It wasn't guilt—it was sorrow. His life had been one of failure in his family's eyes. He had lived like an outcast, a disappointment.
"I regret it… I was powerless," Pride whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I know. That's why I now grant you the power of Dharma and Karma," the Ancestor declared.
Peace settled over Pride's heart. The burden of regret eased, replaced by purpose.
"Thank you, Ancestor."
"Go now."
Pride stepped forward, the world shifting around him. He felt himself pulled into a new vessel—the body of a child.
---
Beep. Beep. Beep. Wake up.
The sound echoed, a sharp pulse shaking him from his dream.
---
Scene Shift
A voice echoed in a young woman's mind, stirring her awake.
In a small room, a girl in her early twenties with black hair and brown eyes opened her eyes. She sat up, dazed.
Her modest room contained only essentials: a bed, a tablet, a chair, scattered books, a lamp, a simple closet, and a few personal belongings.
"Ah, what was I dreaming about?" she muttered, pressing her hand against her forehead.
Taking a deep breath, she mumbled a quiet chant to herself as she swung her legs off the bed.
"Oh, Mother Earth, bless this child of yours," she whispered, stepping onto the floor, her bare feet touching the cold ground.
As she prepared for the day, picking her clothes with sluggish hands, she sighed.
"Sometimes I just… forget. I can never seem to remember my dreams."